The Faithful and Ferocious
by HatefulWitch
Summary: After the Clone Wars, Darth Vader went underground. Rebels are on a manhunt, but Obi-Wan just wants solitude to make sense of his friend's betrayal. He's snapped out of his haze when Luke is abducted. In the ensuing search, he stumbles upon an utterly unstable and defenseless Anakin. It becomes clear their souls are, and have always been, bound- through lies, death, and madness.M/M
1. Alive

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars.

Author's Note: I battled myself because I did not want to write or post this story but if even one person is reading, it will not be hanged, drawn and quartered.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter One: Alive

"What does it really matter anymore?"

"How could you _possibly_ think it doesn't matter anymore?"

"If he was able to cause any further destruction, he would have done it by now. Darth Sidious has successfully taken lordship over the galaxy now what's left of the Jedi has been chased into the shadows. This would be an ideal time for him to wreak havoc."

"The dark side of the Force doesn't work on a time limit. Come on, you know that. Decades from this very rotation, what if he reappears and brings with him untold death and despair?"

"What we're experiencing now is not untold death and despair?" After a moment came a deep sigh of resignation entwined with discouraged words, "He has not been seen in years. Forgive me for thinking there's a possibility he's dead."

An accompanying sigh came forth, "That's wishful thinking. I know because in my heart, I hope he's dead, too. Better dead than a deranged psychopath. But we have to be realistic. The reality is his body is inhabited by a Sith now and if Darth Vader kept anything from Anakin, I'd put my chips on his survival instinct. Just because he hasn't been out and about doesn't mean he's dead or incapable of destruction. He could be directing from behind the scenes somewhere instead of working the field. We don't know, but our wishful thinking is nothing more than wishful thinking. I've been on a lookout for another apprentice. Sidious has not claimed one. I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, I know what…you know he meant a lot to me…and I know what he meant to you, but-"

The Jedi Master turned his shadowed eyes out the multi-paned window, "No, you don't."

"I think I do, but he is no longer the person we knew. He _killed children_ , Obi-Wan. He _choked_ the woman carrying his _own_ children. You fought him on the magma-riddled banks of Mustafar; you _saw it_. You know he is dangerous. _Help me_ , tell me what you know. They wanted me to ask you to find him, to _kill him_. I know if I asked that of you, you'd oblige because that's just who you are. That's why I'm _not_ asking you; I'm asking you to _talk to me_. Tell me what you know so I can volunteer to find him myself. I don't want you to be the one to put him down. Even if that monster's not Anakin, it has Anakin's body, it looks like him, it sounds like him, and I know what that would do to you."

There was a pregnant silence before the quiet query, "How will you be able to carry out such a mission any better than I could, considering how close you were to him?"

"I'm not a Jedi like you anymore. I want to take revenge on the parasite that took Skyguy from me."

Obi-Wan swallowed heavily when he turned from the dusty window, his body close to shaking as he gazed into voluminous blue eyes, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Ahsoka, but I have absolutely no idea where he is. I maintain he may have ceased to exist. The last I saw him, he was lying on a black sand bank, screaming with all the rage of a demon that he hated me. I turned from him, took Senator Amidala to safety, and that's the end of the story."

Ahsoka bit her lips, momentarily losing Obi-Wan's stare, before leaning forward in her seat and meeting his piercing eyes again, "Here I was thinking you would have some great big secret you could tell me that would help us find Darth Vader. When I tracked you down, after Organa confirmed you were still kicking, I couldn't figure out why you stayed here on Tatooine. Even after you told me about Luke, I was sitting here trying to figure out why you didn't merely procure his safety with his family then return to the front lines. But I see it now. I see why you're still here."

When only the stifling silence was left hanging in the air, Obi-Wan dared, "Why am I still here?"

"When he left the light, Anakin didn't just take his bad attitude with him, he took your will to fight."

Ahsoka didn't expect her former brother-in-arms to validate her statement in a positive or negative fashion as she stood from her seat. She strode to where he was motionlessly standing and placed a fleeting hand on his shoulder. She looked up at Obi-Wan, though he did not meet her gaze, then turned and headed towards the door.

"May the Force be with you, Master Obi-Wan."

Before he could even simulate a response, the door was closing behind Anakin's old padawan.

::::

Almost as soon as Ahsoka settled into her CR90 corvette and turned on the hypertransceiver, a voice cancelled out the static, "Please, tell me you have some chatty soup."

"Kanan, did you really sit on the wire until I got back?" The former Jedi slumped into the pilot's seat and audibly sighed, "Obi-Wan is alive, if that counts as state-of-the-art skinny."

"Oh, we knew he was alive. Did you hound out where Vader is blackholing?"

"No," she rolled her eyes in annoyance at the demanding tone on the other end of the radio.

"But O-"

"Ahsoka out," the Togrutan curtly interjected before tapping off the transceiver, quickly adding on afterwards, "and fuck you."

It was a good thing she was the only one who had the moxie to face Obi-Wan; he would not have responded well to any amount of her rebel comrades' strong-arm tactics. After sitting in thought for a few moments, she switched the power back on her subspace comm and readjusted the frequency. With a bit of tuning and some weird feedback she didn't care for, she finally heard a soft hissing noise. Leaning forward in her seat, Ahsoka drawled, "R5, do you copy?"

There was still a high-pitched electrical whine for a few moments before an alert voice resonated through the ship's sound system, "This is R5. I copy."

A smile bedecked her lips, "Hey, it's Commander T.O."

There was still unpleasant feedback as his laughter fed through, "You doing alright, Commander?"

She smiled to herself, "Yeah, I'm queen of the coronas. How are you?"

"Scouting out as many side-lined posts as I can for you. Did you need me to head somewhere specific?" the clone trooper captain speculated.

"No, no, all the gen you've been sending has been primo. I…I didn't know who else…I could talk to," she admitted reluctantly as she crossed her arms and tilted her head back.

Rex hummed in vexation, "Now that is a tone doesn't bode well for anybody. Have you found something heavy?"

After weighing whether or not she should continue, the space warrior eventually responded, "Well, it's something I always knew on some level, but I think I really see the size of it now. Not to say it matters much anymore; it isn't exactly information that will help us take down the Big Nasty."

"Then what dish you got?" he asked confusedly.

"Obi-Wan is on the sunny rock."

Rex paused, running the message through his head multiple times to make sure he wasn't misunderstanding then incredulously charged, "I thought you said what you found _wouldn't_ help us take down the Big Nasty? This is great news! With him back in the-"

"You don't understand. Obi-Wan is about to run a few starships short of a fleet. Time has not been kind to him."

"Oh, I see."

"No, you don't. It wasn't the shitfight that defeated him. It was Anakin. What happened to him- what _we let_ happen to him."

"Stop right there," Rex interrupted, "neither you or General Kenobi allowed _anything_ to happen to General Skywalker. His fate was never in either one of your hands, lil' one. It wasn't in any of our hands."

"You're right. It doesn't always feel like it, but you're right. He was my master though." Her voice lowered, "He was my _friend_ , my _family_. I can still remember him handing me back my sticks and saying, go get that kung, Snips. Sometimes I feel like I should have known what was about to happen. Even though we were apart, I should have felt it. I was selfish. I got so caught up-"

"You aren't omniscient or omnipotent. Never forget it."

Ahsoka leaned back into her chair, "How could I? It's easier to forget I wasn't the only one shot in the heart…Obi-Wan loved him."

"I don't…I don't understand."

She couldn't contain the laughter at her friend's mystified statement, "What's there to understand?"

"Didn't think they could do that," he imprecisely referred to all Jedi.

"That doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things," she continued to snicker quietly. "You can't prevent or stop yourself from loving someone simply because you're not supposed to. Obi-Wan isn't an easy read in even the vaguest terms, but he displayed and acted on feelings of love many times when it came to Anakin. We could sit here for rotation after rotation listing off examples. I don't know if anyone else knew how he felt, but to me it was more noticeable than a flare star.

"Obi-Wan was much more attentive to and protective of Anakin than he was anyone else. He was happier when they were together. I'd even catch him giving my master affectionate eyes all the time. Nobody else ever seemed to notice and I'm sure if they did, they mistook it as a brotherly thing. But the ultimate truth is Anakin was Obi-Wan's holy sun and sacred moon." She shook her head although no one could see it, "If his behavior since the shitfight is anything to go by, in spite of all that has happened, that's still the case. The ill-advised, hopeless case."

"So, he hasn't been around because of a broken heart?" Rex clarified with palpable sympathy marking his voice.

"That's my firm belief. You probably never knew, but Anakin was positively, heart and soul, over the supermoon in love with Obi-Wan- regardless of anything indicating otherwise. It's another one of those things I could take a few rotations to explain," she miserably laughed. "I wish I could bring him back to Obi-Wan, but the muscles of love can't fend off eclipses any more than they can move planets."

The captain laughed confoundedly, "You're right, I was in the _absolute_ dark on all of that, especially the last part. It may not come as a surprise I never considered how General Kenobi would feel after everything. Which honestly comes from ignorance. I really didn't _know_ him. I suppose I wasn't around him enough to know him, not on a core level. He never lost the cool, aloof demeanor in my presence. I guess I just never really thought of him _having_ emotions, never was affected by much. Guess it was easy to forget General Kenobi is human and not…I don't know, a universal life force or something."

With laughter ringing in his ears, Rex admitted, "It's really the only reason the love between him and General Skywalker makes _any_ sense. General Skywalker was wild while General Kenobi was tranquil. It's like light and dark, peace and war. Perfect balance. Looking back, General Kenobi was the only one that was ever able to calm General Skywalker down, no matter how worked up he was." Unsure of what to follow up his rant with, Rex stated the only thing he was sure of, "Anyway, I suppose you'll have to find the Parasite without General Kenobi's aid."

Ahsoka sat upright in the seat of her corvette then began manually inputting her next coordinates, "Yes, I will."

"And when you do find him?"

"If there is any hope Anakin is savable, and that's why we haven't seen him, then I will do all I can to save him. If he is no more, I will run the Parasite through. For the ones we lost, for Obi-Wan, and for Anakin."

Before blast off, a dire warning sounded through the crackling static of the sound system, "Don't expect him to be the same man as before, Commander."

::::

After Ahsoka left his home within the Jundland Wastes, Obi-Wan couldn't stop pacing. Meditation crossed his mind, but he quickly discarded the idea. He couldn't participate in the inert task of it anymore. All he could ever manage to focus on was an all-consuming, familiar sorrow that bled from every pore in his skin and suffocated him, choking him until he was forced to flee from it. He knew he would never be able to meditate that horrid feeling away. He'd tried many times in the past and failed repeatedly. The only alleviation of any variety he could find was in ethanol and distraction.

He didn't use his lightsaber anymore. Of course, it wasn't safe to use out in the open now any remaining Jedi were on a seek-and-destroy list, but he didn't even practice within the privacy of his own home. It revived a life he needed to leave buried deep in the soil.

Without lightsaber or meditative exercises, he was left to his manic devices. He often walked, paced, or ran during distress. Only through the mindless motion of his feet and the frenetic energy it supplied his mind, which usually made him unable to focus on one thing, was he able to find a modicum of peace. The insistent suns usually sunk below the horizon long before he tired himself out and despite the groan in his knees and back, he often kept moving. Even without appearances from Ahsoka, he seemed to always spend his evenings in this method. Wear himself down until he nearly passed out, do anything he could to avoid thinking about the last five years of his life. However, not even Obi-Wan Kenobi could control the contents of his subconscious.

When he did eventually lay down at night, he would be visited by the haunts of the past. Tormented by dead younglings, severed limbs, screams, burning flesh, amber eyes swathed by a luminous crimson halo. Then he'd awaken from his slumber with a dying gasp on his lips and end up with a glass of red dwarf in his hand.

Tonight, with all the direct mentions of his wayward best friend, was especially trying. He paced well past sundown, but it wasn't enough to clear his head. With only a few hours before morning, he ran aimlessly through the night. Across the bluff, to the Western Dune Sea and back, repeat, repeat, repeat. The constant motion helped to fully distract him from the torture of contemplation. The suns were on the rise by the time he collapsed on his unmade bed, his body and mind thoroughly exhausted. Sleep swept over him before he knew his eyes were closed.

However, his relief was short-lived.

He was visited by those dreadful, odious eyes, that twisted mouth, the blood. Heat. Metal. _I hate you!_

He smeared the sweat from his brow as he awoke. Rolling over to the edge of the bed, he didn't bother with a glass as he hoisted the bottle of red dwarf to his lips. Swig after swig trundled down his throat until the bottle was empty.

After a few moments, he began to nod off again, a transitory thought bubbling to his lips, "You're still alive, my love."


	2. You Can't Even Say His Name

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Two: You Can't Even Say His Name

Obi-Wan was used to a random visitor once in a blue moon, but in all the years he'd resided in his once abandoned home, he was never granted the company of a Lars family member. So, when he saw Beru Lars charging over the bluff as he hung out his laundry, he was rightfully alarmed. She looked disoriented as she staggered along with ruffled clothes and tangled brunette hair. He tossed his clean clothing aside and rushed to her, closing the distance in a panic.

"Missus Lars, what's wrong?" he grabbed the trembling woman's shoulders.

As Beru looked up into Obi-Wan's eyes, he caught sight of a couple of bruises forming along her cheekbone, "They took him, Ben, they took him! You have to help! They took him!"

"Slow down. Who took whom?"

"They took _Luke_!"

Obi-Wan's fingers tightened into the fabric of Beru's shirt, " _Who took Luke_?"

The shaken woman could only wad up the front of her shirt in her fists and wail, "I don't _know_!"

Obi-Wan released the Lars matriarch for a moment to turn away and try to collect himself. After taking a few deep breaths, he turned around once more, "Is there anything else? What they looked like? What they were wearing? How many there were? What they were flying?"

"There were a lot of them, I don't know how many, at least ten. One of them had a red eye and a blue eye, I think they were female. And- and I don't know what kind of bird they were on, it was too far away by the time I saw it. Some of them were bucketheads, but the one with the two different eyes, I- I don't know, there were red marks on her skin and she was wearing black. I- We didn't even hear them coming! They just bust through the door and knocked Owen into the wall, then they grabbed Luke! I tried to stop them!" she spluttered through sobs, grasping onto Obi-Wan's garments. Her head shook in shame, "But they knocked me down too, like I was a house of cards."

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders to offer some ounce of solace, "Missus Lars, there was nothing you could have done. I will find Luke and bring him home, I promise you. I'm glad you are out of harm's way. Is Mister Lars alright?"

"I was in such a rush I laid him flat on the floor, put a pillow under his head," she laughed in spite of everything. "He was still breathing, but he had a nasty gash on his forehead."

"Go take care of your husband. I am going to try to find Luke immediately. Thank you for coming so quickly and be careful," he spoke calmly despite his racing thoughts.

Without dealing another word to the battered woman, Obi-Wan sprinted into his home. He crossed the sitting room and leapt down the stairs, speedily making his way into the well-kept cellar. Moving past the neatly stored food, he maneuvered a medium-sized plasteel container from the back corner. The tumblers and bolts popped open after he punched in the numerical code on the container's old-fashioned lock-pad. He promptly removed his old robes and garments, his trusty leather boots, his lightsaber, and a small goldmine of credit ingots.

He didn't have the time to be repelled by the thought of donning his old garb again as he hurriedly changed. He held his lightsaber aloft for a moment or two, merely staring at it with some amount of resentment. However, Luke came back to his mind and he quickly got over himself. Now all he needed was transportation.

Good thing he knew someone with a ship.

::::

For a year, Ahsoka and Rex hacked through nearly every electromagnetic wave in the galaxy to find a way for members of the rebellion to freely communicate with one another. They never found frequencies to brave on the Empire's amplitude modulation because even the lesser used ones still sported too much traffic in their opinion. Encryption modules or not, the amplitude modulation seemed like a gamble.

In a stroke of desperation and ingenuity, the dynamic duo engineered their own system with a frequency modulation instead. It took about two years, but the rebels finally had their own communications system with limitless frequencies, pre-programmed encryption included. Ever since they established the modulation, static was a constant mainstay in Ahsoka's corvette. Like most spacers, she always kept her comm on which meant she was now used to a low-hum buzz. However, she wasn't used to demanding, anonymous calls. Therefore, when one came in on her crackling hypertransceiver to the tune of _I need you to come to Tatooine_ she was understandably leery. Her mouth moved closer to the comm, "Who is this?"

A rattle of static hissed through the speaker, "It's Obi-Wan. I need you to come back to Tatooine FTL."

"I was _just_ there last rotation, you know," she mildly goaded, "and unless you've got more to say about-"

" _Please_ , Ahsoka, this is a critical, cosmic-jet-grade emergency," his voice crackled against the static, making him sound even more worrisome. "I will tell you everything when you get back, but I need a lift as soon as possible."

"What the slag is going on?" she attempted to clarify. Her query was only met with that familiar low hum. She turned around right away.

Luckily, she'd remained in the Outer Rim after Rex comm-ed her back up about some strange behavior happening around Geonosis. She tried to investigate, but that basically consisted of her drifting a few hundred kilometers above the planet's atmosphere, peering through some electrobinoculars at what _might be_ a construction site of some sort. To say she was getting nowhere was an understatement. She'd eventually return to get a better look at this bizarre discovery and explore the strange feeling of loss the planet brought her, but right now a raving Obi-Wan Kenobi needed her assistance.

::::

She could spot Obi-Wan's sandy head of hair a mile away and couldn't help the minute grin on her lips when she realized he was pacing. Although she didn't know what had gotten his robes up in a bunch, she was glad to see a more engaged Jedi Master than the disconnected, heartbroken one she witnessed the rotation before. It was headed towards sundown by the time she planetfell the corvette a couple hundred meters from her old friend.

As soon as the Togrutan stepped off her ship she was met with an onslaught of gratitude, "You will never know how much I appreciate this. I am fore-"

"I'll hear none of that! You know if you need me, I'll be there," she smiled sincerely. "Want to tell me where I'm going?"

"I'm still working on that."

"You don't know where you're going, but you got to get there fast," the Shilian laughed heartily. "Well, get in, let's figure out where we're going."

The two Forcefuls made their way into the corvette and settled into the pilot and co-pilot's seats. Ahsoka swiveled her seat around so she could look Obi-Wan head on without craning her neck to the side. Their eyes locked as she kicked off the conversation, "Tell me what's going on."

He hastily replied, "Luke has been abducted. From what his caretaker told me, I believe Darth Sidious and possibly a new apprentice is behind it."

Her teeth clenched as soon as the words left the jade-eyed Jedi's mouth. With great toil, she swallowed the lump in her throat, "Do you expect me to readily buy into that?"

"Buy into what?"

"I come here to see if you know anything about my old master since _nobody_ else, not even Organa, has the _guts_ and you have nothing to say. Then you bleep me back here twelve hours later to tell me there's another apprentice, one that's _not_ Darth Vader. What are you trying to achieve here, Obi-Wan?" she huffed in blatant irritation.

The older Forceful seemed to regain the saucebox nature he was notorious for when he sniped, "The _sole_ thing this has to do with him is preserving the _only piece left_ of him. I must find Luke and bring him home. Everything else is immaterial."

 _Oh, Obi-Wan_. Ahsoka sat back in her chair and crossed her ankle over her knee, her tone softening straightaway, "I see. In that case, I'm at your disposal. Once we recover Luke, I have to rocket back to Geonosis, but you have to answer me one thing before we go. If we find Luke and the only thing between us and him is _Darth Vader_ , what will be your course of action?"

His eyes lowered towards the floor, but he did not hesitate, "If _Darth Vader_ is an obstacle at any point while retrieving Luke, I will cut him down."

Ahsoka did not push the matter any further. She knew Obi-Wan's word on such matters was as good as gold. Her foot bounced against her knee in anticipation, "Where we gunning?"

"Go to Malastare." This directive earned him a look of incredulity, but he persisted, "I don't know where they've gone, but I just realized I think I know a way we can find out."

::::

There were many times in Ahsoka's life in which she threw caution to the wind. She had been Anakin Skywalker's padawan after all. She'd fought in battles; she cost others their lives by her rash decisions; she once made an alliance with Asajj Ventress. Still, for some reason she felt like Obi-Wan was playing a little fast and loose.

She should have never gone to Malastare, especially when Obi-Wan didn't explain to her what he was planning to do once the corvette came to a stop. Malastare was infamously within the Galactic Empire's iron fist, supplying fuel and hosting the integral communications stations. That they got into the stratosphere without detection of any kind was nothing short of a miracle. However, as per requested, she flew to this heavily-guarded world and landed them smackdab in the middle of its southern hemisphere.

It was unclear to her if the Stewjonian somehow visited Malastare again within the last five years, but if he hadn't, he possessed an incredibly useful internal compass. It seemed they set down exactly where he wanted and he was on his toes near the hatch before they even completely landed.

"Keep an eye out. If you see anyone approaching, get out of here," Obi-Wan instructed over his shoulder.

"Wait, hold up!" Ahsoka hopped out of her seat and hustled towards the man. "You can't go out there by yourself."

He reasoned with a stern countenance, "As I said, if anyone spots the ship, it'd be checkout time. This will only require one pair of hands anyway."

"I won't let you go out there without anyone to watch your back and I sure as Sithspit wouldn't fly out of here without you because there's no shot I can get out and come back with the same lucky lack of detection we've been granted so far. And you know I would come back to get you, _period_ ," the strong-willed Shilian argued passionately. When he turned back towards the hatch with a sigh, she decisively asserted, "Either both of us go or neither of us do."

Knowing they were sacrificing precious time arguing, he took only a few seconds to relent, "Then let's be on our way."

She didn't deal another word as she pressed the hatch release and they exited the corvette. She remotely closed it up and they set out into the deadened terrain. An expanse of logged, rotted trees littered the land, intermingled with concrete, steelstone, and foreign structures. Fuel refineries and plants had infamously taken the place of Malastare's once luscious timberlands, but the refineries and plants weren't the dominant structures on the southern hemisphere- the communications stations were.

Passing one obviously defunct communications station, the Force-sensitive pair tread across more destroyed woodland, the ground uneven and barren. It was some distance before they reached more concrete and steelstone buildings. They were evenly spaced out and boasting colossal silver and gold antennas. Obi-Wan was worried the corvette would be noticed if they didn't hurry, so he settled with this group of buildings. He determinedly marched towards an unguarded titanium door at the back of a one-story station.

For the first time since stepping foot on Malastare, Ahsoka spoke, "What's the target?"

She wasn't even spared a glance, "Central apparatus."

"Oh, well, of course," she scoffed, "that explains everything. A little less skinny please; it's overload."

Unable to stop the thoughts of Anakin from bombarding his mind after such a cheeky response, Obi-Wan felt a shadow of a grin on his face. He did not elaborate on his two-worded answer as he intently steamed ahead. Within a couple minutes engulfed in silence, they came to the dirt-dusted door of the communications building. He snatched the lightsaber from his belt and slammed down the activation stud. With more fluidity than he expected from himself, he jammed the lightsaber through the door and neatly dragged it until he trimmed a circular aperture in the middle. He cut off his lightsaber then kicked the loose titanium he'd carved out, inciting it to fall inwards.

He'd expected sadness and alienation were he to wield his lightsaber again, yet for the few moments it'd been ignited he felt a contented numbness. The longer he stared at it in his hand, the guiltier he felt.

Ahsoka lingered behind him, unable to decipher why he was stagnant, as the back of his head offered no clues. In another setting she perhaps wouldn't have been so antsy but considering they were on Malastare, breaking into an Empire communications station building, her restlessness got the best of her, "What's wrong?"

He was unable to face her during his heart-wrenching confession, "The last thing I did with this lightsaber was take my best friend's legs off."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head then walked to him to place a hand on his shoulder as she did the rotation before. There was no way she could address this directly without giving it some thought, so instead she encouraged, "Come on. We've got to get to the central apparatus. Whatever the kriffing hell that is."

He nodded, grateful for the silent acceptance of his strange behavior. He led the way into the building, grasping his lightsaber tightly in case they ran into any trouble. Ahsoka followed without uttering a word, never questioning his directional intuition. The building wasn't a maze fortuitously and more than that, it wasn't overly populated. They heard voices on a number of occasions, but they came from behind closed doors Obi-Wan didn't seem to hold an interest in. When they came to an open-doored room located at the end of a protracted hallway, on practically the opposite end from their entry point, there was more chatter. Droids, no doubt.

Obi-Wan slowed down and Ahsoka came to a stop behind him. Less than a minute passed listening to what seemed to be trivial banter between the droids before he tossed a glance over his shoulder and perilously traipsed towards the doorway. His accomplice couldn't fight back a smirk as she unclipped her lightsabers from her belt. She didn't know how he deduced this was the central apparatus, but he sure seemed confident.

They calmly entered the room and met a handful of KX-series security droids. Computerized commands and roars of blaster pistols resounded through the enormous room right as Ahsoka engaged her two white lightsabers. She didn't have to look to Obi-Wan to know his lightsaber was engaged before hers were. They deflected the shots with ease, ricocheting some back on the shooters. Only three security droids remained standing by the time she pressed her way forward and speared her lightsabers through two of them with precision. She swiftly withdrew her weapons, using one to deflect a blaster shot from the last droid left and using the other to take off its head.

With all opposition eliminated, he moved undeterred across the room. It was clear when he took one of the leather seats in front of a highly-sophisticated machine that they found the central apparatus. The blonde took only a second to look over what appeared to be the mainframe then started to bang away on its keyboard.

She leaned forward to press her palms against the edge of the console to try to get a better look at the screen, "Anything you'd like to share, Captain Cryptic?"

Obi-Wan flashed a brief smile though he never took his eyes off the screen, "If anyone thinks the amplitude frequency is anything less than a mass surveillance system, they're deluding themselves. Any individual utilizing the Empire's frequencies are being tapped."

To prove this point, he reached to his left and twisted one of many marked, shiny knobs. The room was suddenly filled with a male's voice arguing about a bad loan. After only a few seconds, he turned the volume back down and digressed, "I would conjecture there is a central apparatus in every communications building on Malastare. The stations take up most of the southern hemisphere and a portion of the north. Judging by what we see here, there's about five-thousand recorders per building, though there could always be less or more I suppose. By what I've been told, there's probably more than a few million buildings across the planet."

Ahsoka sucked in an ample breath, "You _happened_ to stumble onto this off-the-record intelligence _where_?"

Determined fingers kept tapping away on the keyboard, "You'd be surprised what kind of info is spread on Tatooine. The rise of the Empire did not interfere with the Hutts and their underworld cesspit. It helps when everyone thinks you're a harmless, weak-minded hermit."

She didn't bother suppressing her chortles, "You're still full of surprises. Here we all were thinking you were taking a vacation. Now, feel free to scold me in that belittling way only _you_ can, but if I'm adding this correctly, we are trying to access the frequencies' recordings?" The muted nod she received prompted her to continue, "What if the communications buildings don't share a network? If you can only access the recordings made in this particular building, we're fucked."

" _That_ ," his eyebrows shot up as his eyes stayed focused on the screen spouting off miniscule green letters, "is my only concern. I am shifting through all the files now. It appears a recording starts and stops automatically. I don't see why the files wouldn't autodirect to a shared folder in order for some miserable superiors to listen through. _Endlessly_. These droids obviously weren't listening here."

"Can you imagine the resources they use, the amount of people they employ to spy on everyone like this?" She joked, "It's probably half the galaxy. People probably spy on themselves at some point." She didn't wait for a response before urging, "Caraya's soul, please tell me _we_ are not going to listen to all these files! Obi-Wan, even if you do find a shared folder, there would be _trillions_ of recordings!"

Obi-Wan retained his calm demeanor in spite of his friend's chiding, "As I hypothesized, these recordings have a time and date stamp as well as imprints of transmission coordinates. We might have to listen to a few but certainly not trillions."

"What if the recording we seek has already been dusted?" the Shilian stressed. "There's no way they have a cloud computing device, or even an external device, that could store all the transmission recordings. It would take a data storage system with a gargantuan capacity- as in there-is-no-such-thing-that-gargantuan-which-exists. I'd even give them multiple clouds and drives and they still wouldn't have enough space. The people tasked with going through the daily folder, assuming there even is one, probably ghost all the files they don't intend to keep. Then they pass-"

"I don't see what your concern is. You answered your own question. Obviously, they have a storage system with enough capacity to hold trillions of files every rotation, but the capacity can't be limitless. It most likely wouldn't be enough to store the daily files amassed over say, three years' time. Probably not even a year's. Therefore, each station's daily recordings are autodirected to a storage system via a shared folder, a team of superiors sorts through the folder to delete undesirables, and only the marked files are saved. What we seek is newer. There's no chance they've listened to all the recordings made within the last forty-eight hours. I am confident there is enough lag time to get us what we need."

She groaned and collapsed on a nearby burnt sienna leather chair, "Work your Jedi magic then, Obi-Wan, my Kenobi."

::::

"We got in with no problems, he said!" she yelled to herself through heavy pants. "Getting out will be a cinch, he said!" she screeched as she sprinted towards the corvette with her lightsabers shining through the night.

"I make one misjudgment…!" Obi-Wan shouted from a few steps behind.

He managed to locate a folder inconspicuously labeled _Daily Files Here_ , subsequently unveiling the shared storage system every communications building used to submit day-to-day recordings. He was then able to input a date and time to search recordings made on and near Tatooine. He listened intently to numerous recordings, quickly skipping over blatantly unrelated ones. Ahsoka shifted through a series of restless positions in her chair while waiting on her determined friend to find a clue. The longer she sat there the more unsettled she became. It all seemed _so easy_ and she wanted to get the lead out before a hat dropped.

That hat came in the form of stormtroopers. Many, _many_ stormtroopers. They both heard the tell-tale noise of clanking footfalls hustling down the hallway. She looked at him and saw the exasperation on his face then stood up. She let him know she would take care of it then proceeded to hold off round after round of stormtroopers, unable to turn her lightsabers off for nearly fifteen minutes straight. The troopers stopped coming in due time, but she stood guard at the door until her friend found what he was searching for some time later.

They didn't encounter anymore stormtroopers as they made their way out of the building, to which Obi-Wan dryly declared they'd been scared off by Ahsoka's ferociousness. However, as soon as he assured her getting back to the corvette would be a cakewalk, they stepped out of the hole in the titanium door and were surrounded by a sea of white. They battled their way through the congregation of stormtroopers while dashing across the woodland they'd trekked to reach the communications building. By the time they approached the corvette, they were, for the most part, rid of the pursuing troopers. A few stray blaster shots fired into the night sky, but they were pretty much home-free.

Ahsoka released the activation stud on one of her lightsabers. She speedily clipped the weapon and jabbed a button on the corvette remote on the same side of her belt. The hatch dropped down and she hurdled onto it, bounding straight for the controls. Obi-Wan boarded the ship only seconds later and slapped the lock button to close the hatch. The pilot started the engine and didn't even bother entering coordinates or asking where they were going before hammering the fuel.

Obi-Wan found he was only able to hold his disengaged lightsaber tightly in his hands and stare at it with labored breath. He'd once more used the same tool that dismembered Anakin. It felt traitorous to hold this lightsaber. Every time he used it, it became an extension of himself and he became one with the Force. How could the bringer of such unfathomable pain to Anakin bring him so much serenity?

A good amount of time passed before she wondered where he disappeared to and glanced over her shoulder. Seeing his lightsaber on the receiving end of an evil eye, she intervened, "Your nervous system still functioning back there?"

His head popped up and his hands dropped, one hand taking his lightsaber with it. He clipped it onto his belt and walked to the cabin. Without looking at his friend, he sat down in the co-pilot's seat, crossed his arms, and peered out the windshield without uttering a sound.

They hightailed it away from Malastare.

It was a very long time before either one of them spoke.

When the silence was broken, it was not necessarily welcome.

"You did what you had to."

"No, I didn't. I should have killed him. Instead, I maimed him."

Satisfied with the distance between them and the planet they committed a capital offense on, she slowed the corvette until they were all but drifting and turned in her seat, " _Fine_ , you should have killed him, but _you didn't_. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to become a _harmless, weak-minded hermit_ who stares at his lightsaber in horror while the galaxy goes to shit around him? You can't keep going like this."

Obi-Wan turned burning eyes to his companion, "This is how I _survive_."

" _This_ is how you survive?" she skeptically surveyed as the white marks over her browbones arched. "You can't even say his _name_ , Obi-Wan. It's _him, he, my best friend;_ you can't even say his name."

He closed his eyes to regain his composure. When his eyelids peeled back, a coldness lurked in the depths of those emerald jewels. His fingers squeezed the fabric of his tunic in only the slightest of manners, but Ahsoka caught it. He declared with a stabilized voice, "Set coordinates for Naboo. We are going to Theed."

She let a steady stream of breath steam through her nostrils as her head shook then turned in her seat and manually punched in the coordinates, pressing her flat hands against the dash soon after. With eyes fixed ahead, she acknowledged, "Me leaving the Order pushed him closer to the dark side. It helped germinate the seeds of doubt Sidious placed in his mind. _You_ know it and _I_ know it. Maybe if I didn't leave…I have to live with that _every single second_. So, I do and it gives me the will to _fight_. To stand up against _anyone_ and _everything_ that not only took Anakin from me but used me _as a pawn_ to do it. If you _ever_ want to show how much Anakin meant to you, and give his memory a _sliver_ of dignity, start by acting like he was a _real_ person, not some _nameless shadow_ of the past."


	3. Toxic Waste

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars.

Author's Note: I wanted to clarify the exchanges between the rebels in first chapter is my _hilarious_ version of Star Wars military lingo. I wanted to clarify this so the change in lexicon doesn't seem so half-baked/arbitrary.

Warnings: Violent thoughts and mentioned suicide attempt.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Three: Toxic Waste

Every night, he flailed in a lake of fire. His flesh peeled off in strips. Cadavers sailed amongst the flames, wails and stench permeated the air, smoldering bodies wildly thrashed around him as they tried to swim. This was anguish; this was everlasting fire. Torment and limbo. He belonged here.

"Vile miscreation," danced from his lips as he awoke to the pitch-black bedroom. He sat upright on the soiled, beaten mattress and pressed his clammy palms into his eye sockets, trying to expel the heinous visions from his head. But he knew they would never leave. The fiery bowels of that frightening phantasm were his eternal trial.

Despite his best efforts, he could not soothe the savage cyclone of trepidation, wrath, and agony circling within. As he lost the remaining grip on himself, his ragged breath became heavier and his teeth grinded until his jaw ached. Every muscle in his body constricted and his shoulder blades rose like sprouting wings. Luminescent scarlet orbs radiated like wolf's eyes in the darkness and sweat beaded down his face. His fingers were fisted so tightly his knuckles were white and his blunt nails broke the rough skin of his palm.

He started to feel a wretched pressure across his skin, like the seam of a shirt straining as the sides of the fabric are pulled in different directions. The more acute the pressure became, the more acute his other symptoms became. A wordless scream slipped through his lips as the pressure exacerbated, demanding mitigation. He tugged and twisted at his pantlegs as the mind-bending pain coursed through every available nerve. When it seemed like the pain would never stop, his skin, like a worn seam, ripped.

He bit his tongue hard when the first rupture carved a fissure in the skin on his lower back. He felt the blood leaking down his flesh but couldn't care less. All he could do was wait for the next detonation. The second and third ruptures happened within seconds of each other, eliciting a pain-riddled howl from the suffering man. He knew it wasn't over as more blood and plasma slithered down his thigh and over his ribs. Three more nearly bone-deep fissures cracked open on his body and by the time the last one bust wide, he was doubled over, sobbing.

By the stars, this was a bad episode.

The tension in his body remained as the arresting pain gradually receded. A dull throb came to encompass his entirety as he slowly laid back on his rusty, blood-stained mattress, adding new gore marks as he went. He dry-heaved for some time as he tried not to move and cause more damage.

He touched a hand to his forearm and it was immediately saturated in blood. His hand dropped exhaustedly to the mattress. With each shaky breath and shock of pain, he knew. He knew he belonged here.

::::

"Let's try walking through this _again_. We don't have to _like_ our prisoners, but we do have to _feed_ them. You see, feeding them ensures they don't _die_ and if _they_ don't die that means _you_ don't die. Simple. Coherent. Reasoning. Right? No, don't just nod your head, say you understand this _simple coherent reasoning_."

"I understand this simple coherent reasoning."

"My lucky stars, we're back in the saddle. Go get some food for this son of a bantha."

Luke sat with his legs tucked against his chest and his arms around his shins. He kept his head down and tried to tune out the callous banter taking place outside his force cage. This was the third rotation without food and his stomach was cramping. He was convinced no one would take notice of his dietary habits, especially after three rotations in captivity and not a mention of it. Lo and behold, a strange female with two different-colored eyes, black hair, and almost no body weight of her own came leering around his cage at the end of the third rotation. She appeared to infer by looking at him alone he'd not had food since his arrival and promptly lambasted the prison warden.

After sending the punished warden to retrieve nourishment for their prisoner, the female sauntered back to Luke's cage. Like before, she didn't say a word to the five-year-old. She only prowled around the force field like a tiger, the red stripes against her otherwise deathly pale skin adding to the effect. Her narrowed carmine and azure eyes unashamedly surveyed Luke from head to toe. Her master told her this was Darth Vader's son, but she didn't see how that could be. He was weak in the Force. Quite a frightened little thing and in the few moments she'd been around him, he'd shed tears. For the sake of her master's plan, she sure hoped this was Vader's offspring. She didn't care to speak to the child before leaving the prison block, having no need or want to interact with the fragile cretin.

After leaving the block, the female navigated the labyrinth of the underground fortress and climbed a winding flight of stairs which merged into the quadratic ones of Guido's Tower. She followed the stairs to the top floor where her master's courtroom had been established. She found her master perched in his extravagant repulsor chair, watching like a gargoyle over the Solleu River and the prosperous capital city of Naboo.

"Master, have you made an election?"

Darth Sidious clasped his hands together in front of his chest as his eyes gleamed with mischief, "Yes, Lord Noxion, I have elected to enroll our young prisoner in a lively execution."

Darth Noxion's black lips curled into an entertained smirk, "Hopefully not too lively, my master?"

The Emperor mirrored his apprentice's temperament, "Entertaining, at the very least."

"What is your desired modus operandi?"

"The boy didn't try to wield the Force when you took him from Tatooine, he didn't try to wield it during transit, and he didn't try to wield it at any point during his imprisonment with us. All he has done is weep and cower like the worthless, frail-minded child he is. Even his signature is pathetic, weaker than a bilge-bug's. It is clear he didn't get a shred of his father's great power and talent. By the conclusion of the ceremony, make sure the little bastard's out of his misery in any way you see fit. Just _remember_ to entertain me," Sidious mercilessly instructed.

Noxion gave a slight nod, "It will be done. When do you wish for the execution to be set?"

The Emperor unclasped his hands and gripped the arms of his chair, "Vader is on Naboo. Although he has managed to stay under the radars of our search crews, there is no doubt the commiserative attachment he held for that harpy Amidala drew him back here. Let the whole damn rock know Luke Skywalker is three rotations from his demise. Be loud enough and Father will answer the call."

"Can we be certain he will have the same attachment for the child as he had for the mother?"

"Don't insult my intelligence," he hissed in dismissal.

"Forgive me, Master." She gave another slight bow of the head, "I will commence immediately."

Noxion turned to make her descent back to the underground fortress. She turned the opposite direction from the prison block when she reached the bottom of the last staircase and navigated to the telecommunications unit. With instant clearance, she waltzed into the master control room. The techies fell into a dead silence at the sight of her, but she paid no mind to her inferiors as she went to the octangular console in the middle of the room and forcefully pushed one of the techies out of her way. Her fingers moved at a masterful pace across the holographic letters on the keyboard as she logged into her account and effortlessly composed a bulletin.

Without offering any kind of explanation to the techies, she posted the bulletin to the HoloNet News domestic databoard, adlinking it directly to Pollux Hax's account. The bulletin would soon be processed and featured on the permanent broadcast and public databoard. Anyone having a drink would see the broadcast and anyone with a holopad could access and read the scandalous bulletin. This should be all that was needed to get the word out.

Luke Skywalker was headed to a premature grave and she was going to make sure everyone on Naboo, and beyond, saw the brutal end of Padmé Amidala's bloodline.

::::

Anakin couldn't stop the feeble trembling in his body no matter what he did. Only a rotation passed since the latest episode occurred and the wounds it left on his body still burned and throbbed like someone was scraping needles across them. Bacta was necessitated, but at this point, hard Twi'lek liquor would have been received just as gladly. He'd used up his last canister of bacta around three weeks prior and never got around to getting more. Lake Country wasn't particularly an ideal place to live if you needed frequent trips to a general store. Then again, that was kind of the point. He didn't want to be noticed or recognized and did everything he could to stay underground, even if it meant letting himself run out of bacta despite the constant trauma his body sustained. He wasn't exactly made out of credits either.

Even though bacta was pretty cheap, he was on a limited, nearly-spent income. He'd long blown through the credits he ascertained upon arrival for his stolen starship. Most of them went for hush money and custom-made supplies to tweak his new mechno-limbs to his liking. His diet consisted of water, oxygen, and the occasional scalefish he'd scoop out of the lake next to his hut.

This time around though, with all the fissures littering his body, making him feel like he was about to be cleaved in two, he _had_ to get some bacta.

He was moving at a cripplingly slow pace. With his head bowed and shoulders hunched, while swathed in plastene, sackcloth, and zeyd-cloth, he looked like a deranged, waste-it-addicted beggar hobbling along. Somehow, he couldn't be bothered. The stares he received once he hit town rolled off his back as he tugged the materials further down over his eyes to block out the relentless light of the sun. One foot in front of the other was his only concern.

In reality, he could have healed himself. However, since the end of the Clone Wars, since he lost his wife, his child, his limbs, and his best friend all at once, he refused to access the Force. He didn't fear personal destruction, as such a worry would be too very little too very late. No, he feared destroying everyone and thing around him.

There'd only been one instance when he was close to breaking his restraints, when a shaak ignorantly roamed close to the hut, unknowing of the storm clouds brewing within.

The torment of loss brutalized his soul and memories of his pregnant wife hounded his mind. He smashed his head until ruby red intermingled with the rivulets of tears cascading wildly down his face. He wanted to feel something aside from that blasted ache! He must get away from the horrific memories reeling through his head!

A voice called out to him, it always did. Seek solace in the arms of the abyss.

He knew it was the dark side of the Force beseeching him; he'd fallen prey to it before.

I am still alive and I will never give you my hand for destruction again, he growled back.

Without any intention beyond the action, he flung the door of the hut open. Directly in front of his door stood an innocent little shaak.

The voice compelled, kill it.

The fallen Jedi's fingers coiled in his curly tresses and he barked aloud, no!

The wicked whispers echoed in his ears, you can kill your child but not this shaak?

The subsequent movements blurred, a pain rushed through his head. Even after the fact he still wasn't sure if he bashed it into something or not. He could recall seeing one of his hands outstretched, his fingers curling inwards. The shaak was on its way off the ground, but then he wailed and used all his willpower to yank his hand to his chest. The shaak was on its tiny feet scurrying away soon after.

He tried to drown himself in the lake that night.

Most of the time, Anakin was sure Obi-Wan knew he would end up the way he did- all the lectures, all the warnings- but even now, he didn't know how to stop _feeling_. His emotions were still as white-hot and overruling as ever. The abandoned hut he'd taken up residence in had been ravaged many times over. It was nestled in one of the innumerable valleys within Lake Country, most likely abandoned due to the constant flooding. Whatever the reason for its owner's leave, they left behind a fair amount of furnishings. Now the only thing left, after all his inconsolable temper tantrums, was a blood-stained mattress.

When he finally reached the general store, he was ready to drop. Yet again disregarding all the inquisitive and repulsed eyes turned his way, he grabbed a canister of bacta and headed towards the checkout. Of course, on the rotation he was about to pass out from pain and exhaustion, he had to wait for the wide-eyed new hire to take their time.

"It's _so_ cruel. Primitive and cruel."

The secretive whispering between the two young women in front of him caught his ear. He didn't intend to listen to their discussion any further, but the next statement was an attention-grabber.

"Why would they snuff a little boy?"

Anakin swallowed harshly and crossed his arms. He tried push all of his focus on the flextile floor as the incredibly hushed conversation continued.

"Because they can do whatever they want and we're powerless to stop them. It's all about putting the shake in our boots."

"At what cost? He's a youngling. Everybody knows there's no underworld play, that he's no slippery eel. It's evil."

"You _know_ why they're doing it, Hyiaw. You saw the bulletin: that little one's a Skywalker." At this, Anakin's eyes snapped towards the red-headed woman unobtrusively whispering. "Even if he really isn't, they at least _think_ he's Anakin Skywalker's son. Safe to say Emperor Black Heart is fit to be tied he lost his precious prize from the War."

His eyes lowered.

"That doesn't mean it's right to take it out on a lily-white little youngling. He shouldn't pay for his scummy father's sins." There was a small pause and then the black-haired woman was speaking at a normal volume, "Hey, you alright there, sir?"

Anakin peered back up at the ladies in front of him and realized they were staring at him. Then he realized through the course of his eavesdropping, his trembling worsened. So bad, in fact, the canister in his hand looked like it was vibrating. The disgraced Jedi weakly cleared his throat as his eyes fell to the floor again, "Fine."

The concerned pair didn't look convinced but didn't bother him any further as the line moved forward. He clenched the canister in his hands until the pads of his fingers turned white while trying to bite back his emotions. He couldn't freak out here. Admittedly, he had always been less than enthusiastic about meditating, but he couldn't remember a time where he wished for the freedom to do it and do it as well as Obi-Wan than at that moment.

Rabid thoughts weaved a disastrously tangled web through his head. He never even considered his child may have survived. When Padmé's life ended, he assumed the existence of his unborn child ended as well. If he'd known there'd been a successful delivery, he would have torn the galaxy apart to find that baby. To find _his son_. Utter elation and gratitude were rapidly eclipsed by utter alarm and choler. His son was in peril. He didn't know what they were planning to do, but he knew in the core of his being he would destroy anything, anyone, that brought harm to his child.

In a matter of seconds, the restraints he slapped on himself over the past half of a decade were inconsequential and void.

If he was to be consumed by irreversible insanity, exterminate every blessed life the Force bestowed to this mortal realm, be impaled by a lightsaber, or hang from the end of a rope he strung himself- whatever took place from this rotation forward, his son's happiness and safety took precedence. He and the rest of entirety could burn if that's what it would take to keep his child happy and safe.

Anakin bit his lip as the tip of a fissure trailing over his wrist caught his attention. _I'm in no condition to fight Sidious. I couldn't even handle an apprentice with the mess I call my body._ The line moved forward again and his teeth grinded against his bottom lip as he took a step forward. _My muscle mass has depleted. I've lost an immense amount of strength in my flesh hand. I haven't trained in the Force in so long. They'd shish kabob me in less than a minute._

He tasted copper as droplets of blood sprang from where he bit his lip. _Easy, Anakin, easy. One step at a time._ The checkout line moved forward again, bringing the two women in front of him to the store clerk. He finally dislodged his teeth from his lip and cleared the blood away with his tongue. He took a breath and took another painful step forward. _First, I have to see what that fucking bulletin says._

 _::-::_

 _24 BBY, The Year of Justice_

 _The name Skywalker is a stain on our history. Anakin Skywalker was a war criminal that massacred defenseless civilians, including children, and obstructed the desperate quest for peace and lawfulness across this galaxy._

 _Anakin Skywalker's son was found to have incredibly high levels of midichlorians, meaning he was very Force-sensitive, when tested at birth, but in virtue of his guiltlessness was immediately granted leniency. Unfortunately, despite his young age, he has developed vast ill-will towards the Galactic Empire and its leaders over the demise of his father and the Old Republic's necessary treatment of the Jedi._

 _Like his murderous father before him, like the traitorous Jedi before him, Luke Skywalker is very dangerous._

 _The younger Skywalker has been apprehended on Tatooine and transported to a high-security prison on Naboo._

 _We shall commence three rotations of rapture to celebrate this victory for justice. On the third rotation, at meridiem, Luke Skywalker will be located to the Palace Courtyard in Theed for execution. We must all know what the face of our enemy looks like, know it doesn't come only in the form of wild-eyed men or shadowy figures. It comes under the guise of the innocent and virtuous._

 _We must take the necessary actions to prevent another Skywalker from staining our history._

 _Long live the Empire!_

::-::

Anakin kept shaking after he left the general store, but after reading the bulletin, his trembling exacerbated. In the store, he was plagued by shame and guilt. After reading the propaganda-saturated bulletin, he simmered with animosity and homicidal rage.

The depiction of him in the bulletin was something he expected. He defied the Sith and they weren't going to treat him nicely. He also knew they must demonize Luke, cast him as some Sithspawn that must be put down to protect the greater good, otherwise there might be some cries of opposition. It was obvious to him what they were doing. Every single step, every sentence, every intention. They were staging a public execution of Luke to lure him out of the woodwork.

It was bad enough they were planning to execute a child in public, but this was _his_ child. Realistically, he knew the Sith viewed no boundaries. They owned no moral limitations or conscience and they would do _anything_ \- deceive, murder, torture, rape, steal- to get what they wanted. But they'd now turned their unconscionable conduct on _his_ child. Acid was trickling down his spinal cord.

Anakin knew he couldn't take on the Sith, not in his condition. At the same time, he was not going to let Luke die, especially when the boy already braved so many odds. If he couldn't fight Sidious, he would have to make a deal instead. The only bartering chip the Dark Lord would want… "Is me," Anakin whispered to himself before letting his eyes fall from the big-screen television.

He turned and left the folksy, relaxed saloon and slowly started back towards his hut. The venom frothing in his chest didn't dissipate as he hobbled to the valley by the lake. All he could think about was knifing his lightsaber straight into Palpatine's mouth. About screaming, if it didn't hurt the crusting wounds on his body. About slamming his fist into every tree he passed, if he didn't feel like there was a pike digging into his spine every time he moved.

He wasn't even sure if Palpatine would let Luke free if he gave himself up. What if the promise was made then backpedaled? He wouldn't be able to do anything about it and then Luke would die anyway. Regrettably, it was his only option, so he better be damn persuasive after arriving at the Palace Courtyard.

 _First thing's first, Anakin. Bacta._

::::

The third rotation of rapture was a rotation of pandemonium.

Despite the agitprop used to convince the citizens of Naboo the execution of Luke Skywalker was justified, many people did not agree. Protests against the execution popped up not only throughout the city of Theed but all over the planet.

Some voices of protest arose on the rotation the bulletin was released with some unable to fathom the execution of a child. For others, their objections took a little additional knowledge. In the rotations following the release of the bulletin the question of lineage soon came up. Nobody knew Anakin Skywalker could ever possibly have a son due to his former Jedi status. Once that initial shock wore off, the next stumper was: who is the mother of Luke Skywalker?

This was mostly brushed off as inane chatter. What did it matter who the mother was? However, voices started scattering.

Senator Amidala and Anakin Skywalker were long rumored to be unbelievably close. She never married, as far as anyone knew, and enduringly brushed off men pursuing her. She also become inexplicably pregnant and never revealed who the father was. Such clandestineness would have been needed if she conceived with a Jedi Knight.

With this old and renewed gossip, a universal deduction was made: Naboo's beloved Senator Amidala was Luke Skywalker's mother. The inane chatter quickly became very relevant. In almost an overnight sweep, the entire people of Naboo, particularly the citizens of Theed, were outraged at the Empire's verdict. The protests, of course, did not last very long, with stormtroopers being called in to restore order. It didn't quell any of the scandal.

With the disarray of the protests, which began prior to sunrise and lasted until about two hours before noon, Anakin was able to move through the city of Theed without detection or even so much as a glance. After reaching the Palace Courtyard, he took a sharp left and made his way towards the semi-circular structure bordering it. He slipped under its enclosed walkway, which allowed him to look over the entire courtyard. Standing on moderately steady feet, he leaned his shoulder against a colonnade with his arms crossed behind his back and his face shadowed by his hood. He still looked like a glitbiter panhandler, but he thought that worked for his advantage of anonymity.

He didn't know what was going to happen today. There was the distinct and likely chance this was the last rotation he would ever see the sun and hear the birds, but he knew without reservation and without a single trace of repentance he would trade whatever he must in order to save Luke. Though he was ignorant to his immediate future, he was well prepared for it, whether it feature torture, humiliation, death. What he was not prepared for, and never dreamed was within the realm of possibility, was to see Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The meek call was so uncertain, so desperate, so timorous... "Anakin?"

It alarmed him despite its low volume and unaggressive tone. He quite frankly didn't know who he expected to find when he turned around, but the panic he experienced in hearing his own name, of someone knowing him, not to mention approaching him from behind, made him prepared to use the Force if necessary. When he found moist malachite eyes gazing back at him with unvarnished hope and ardent warmth, he lost his breath and instantaneously felt the familiar sting of tears. His guard instinctively dropped and he struggled to formulate a single thought. Ultimately, he remained speechless.

The tips of Obi-Wan's fingers kissed one of the burnished colonnades while he stood unmoving and upright in his usual perfect posture.

As he'd crept around the threshold of the walkway to investigate a shadowy, potentially hostile figure, he noticed something. He noticed butterscotch brown curls wafting in the wind. Then he noticed the leather glove over the figure's right hand while the other hand's flesh was in full view. Then he noticed the figure's height and width of shoulders. The nonchalant stance. That's when he stood upright, took his hand off his lightsaber, lowered his hood, and walked without any amount of stealth towards the figure. As soon as he called out _Anakin_ and got a response, he thought his chest was going to cave in. He raised a hand to the colonnade beside him for stabilization and could only find the strength and heart to stare.

He didn't know if the tears came from bliss, from relief, from doubt, from sorrow. For he certainly felt sorrow when taking in Anakin's appearance. The disgraced Jedi was as skinny as a perishing cherry tree, his cheeks hollowed out, his eyes sunken in, his face, neck, and hand littered with scars. There had never been a clearer definition of misery.

It could have been rotations, perhaps hours, perhaps mere minutes that they unrelentingly gaped into each other's tear-brimmed eyes, their crystalline teardrops never quite spilling over. At some point or another though, it did occur to him that the last time they were in contact, Anakin was very much a practitioner in the dark side of the Force. Judging by what he saw before him, he didn't think that was the case anymore, but he couldn't let his emotions override his logic.

He eventually swallowed the lump in his throat, but his voice still rolled out in tremors, "You need to state…" He couldn't carry on with such airs. It was a rare occurrence for such a thing to happen, but his emotions weighed down on him too heavily and he couldn't hold that weight separate from himself, not while peering into those diminished eyes. He could taste the desperation in his voice when he weakly implored, "Are you yourself, Anakin? _Please_ tell me you are yourself."

These pleas caused Anakin to finally speak through a tired, swaggering half-smile, "Something tells me you've missed me."

The mannerisms, the teasing, the natural oceanic eye color and tears. The lack of attacking going on. This was his Anakin. At this recognition, a rush of joy passed through Obi-Wan and he moved forward in an effort to hug his long-absent friend. When it was clear he was attempting to do such a thing, Anakin stepped back, preventing any contact. This caused Obi-Wan to softly assure, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Anakin couldn't sustain eye contact when he gravelly explained, "I didn't think you were trying to. I can't…I don't deserve any kind of clemency or affection or welcome, especially from you. I'm toxic waste and toxic waste has to be quarantined, separated from living beings because it does nothing but pollutes and destroys."

Obi-Wan finally felt prickling tears spill over his lashes. Notwithstanding, his voice lost any wobble and he sternly stated, "Yes, and if someone wants to go splashing around in toxic waste, that's their decision. They can deal with the ramifications." Before Anakin could respond, he wrapped his arms snuggly around the younger man's emaciated waist and back, settling his chin on a bony shoulder, "I delightedly risk any ramification."

Almost immediately, Anakin returned the embrace, defying the screaming protests of pain in his body. His life remained absent of physical contact after the battle on Mustafar with the exception of the installation of his mechno-limbs. Even then, the contact had been with a droid and excruciating. In the long, solitary hours sitting in his hut, he was sure he would never experience the sensation of touch with another living being again. Touching _Obi-Wan_ again never even crossed his mind.

Despite the assuagement his loneliness and self-loathing found in Obi-Wan's arms, he was soon overcome by scraping, throbbing pain. He made a soft noise of discomfort and took a couple steps back, forcibly removing himself from Obi-Wan's grip. The older man was about to interrogate his retreating friend when he realized his right hand, the one that'd been on Anakin's back, was spotted with blood.

"You're hurt," he promptly observed and reached out for the other man again.

"It's an old wound." Anakin feebly played off any concerns as he stepped back, "I couldn't apply bacta to it properly. Hard to reach."

Obi-Wan's bloodied hand clinched into a loose fist when he tenderly rebuked, "Why didn't you use the Force to heal it? Were they to find you, they would kill you in this condition. You're barely standing and wounded, not to mention incontestably oblivious of your surroundings considering how easily I crept up behind you."

Anakin offered no sign of reassurance or solace, "It doesn't matter. They're probably going to kill me anyway when I forfeit myself over to them."

" _What_? What _in Malachor_ could you _possibly_ think such a maneuver will achieve?"

The brunette wore a face of plenary defeat and despondency as his eyes fell to the concrete below his feet, "They have my son. He's still alive and I willingly forfeit my life for his."

Obi-Wan ran his clean hand through the grey hair along his temple in frustration then crossed his arms in abrupt vexation and contention, not even pausing when the blood on his hand smudged across his beige sleeve, "Do you propose for _even an instant_ they will release Luke if you surrender to them?"

Agitated, bitter eyes turned back to his, "You said it yourself: they would kill me in my condition. I refuse to idly sit by while they execute my son."

"You may not be in the shape to fight them, but _I am_ ," the insistent Jedi stressed. "So, _go_. Take refuge and I'll bring Luke to you. _I swear it_."

"I won't let you jump headfirst into a snake pit and I especially won't let you do it alone. I will hand myself over."

"I'm not alone. Ahsoka came with me."

A flicker of listlessness flashed through Anakin's eyes, "Ahsoka's here?"

Obi-Wan slightly nodded his head to his right, "She is on the other side of the courtyard."

Anakin stared searchingly at the adjacent walkway in an attempt to locate his former padawan. After a few moments entrenched in silence, he turned his head the opposite way and soundlessly spoke, "You two came here to rescue Luke?"

"Of course we did."

"Why?"

This single-worded inquiry earned a look of aghast amazement, " _Why_? Aside from the fact he is an innocent child snatched up by the Sith… he is _your_ son, Anakin. He is our family."

"Is _that_ what you consider _me_? You consider me your _family_? After all I did, how…" The potency in the rebuke was lost, "… how could you _ever_ still consider me your family?"

"You were under the influence of the dark side, y-"

"Don't _you dare_ make excuses like that for me, Obi-Wan!" Anakin hotly commanded as he took a step back.

"It's not an excuse. It's the truth. You had a moment of weakness and fell under its influence," Obi-Wan evenly returned and took a step forward to counteract the step back he'd taken.

"The truth is: I'm a _demon_ ," he sorrowfully bellowed with another step back. "Even the Frangawl Cult would flee in terror of me. I'm not going to put you or Ahsoka at extraordinary risk when what Sidious really wants is _me_." He took a third step back but maintained eye contact with his old friend, "This public exhibition is bait. It's painfully conspicuous I am the end in view."

Obi-Wan tentatively took another step forward, his arms still crossed to try to convey composure, "Then it should be painfully conspicuous once you are in their possession, they will kill Luke. Or corrupt him if he is at all attuned to the Force."

The Tatooinian's gloved hand cupped over his eyes, "I can persuade them-"

"You know better," the Jedi Master vehemently interrupted, stepping closer. "I am here, Anakin. I am already here _with Ahsoka_. We came of our own volition and were planning a marvelously heroic rescue before we even saw the bulletin on the Net. _Please_ , go somewhere safe and out of sight. Let us handle this."

Anakin's hand dropped from his face and his fierce, furious eyes burned into his former master's. The brunette analyzed everything from Obi-Wan's sincere stare to the concern and consideration knitted into his brow to his battle-worn hands now stretched forward in openness. If there was an ulterior motive, it was very well hidden. Despite the seemingly genuine want to help, the disgraced Jedi couldn't force himself to resign. This was _his_ battle.

Without another word, he turned and began to slowly shuffle towards the summit of the walkway. This disregard was not well received by the disregarded. Obi-Wan quickly pursued, determined to talk some sense into his rag-clad friend. He gently clasped onto a thin arm to stop the headstrong man.

Once their eyes found each other's again, he quietly and promptly deliberated, "I didn't know if you were alive or not, Anakin. If you were, there was never any question whether or not you were still overcome. Now… now here you stand, breathing and back to yourself, yet you are doing everything within your power to needlessly surrender your life."

"I am doing this for Luke."

"What makes you think Luke would wish to lose you, his father, only minutes after meeting you?" the Stewjonian grimly rationalized. When Anakin tried to slip out of his grip, he spouted off without thinking, "You have more than one child to take into consideration."

The younger Forceful visibly flinched, his eyes fluttering and his mouth falling agape. The breath was stolen from his lungs and the strength stolen from his resolve. He strenuously inspected, " _More than one child_?"

As soon as he uttered the words, Obi-Wan recognized he should not have revealed Leia's existence so recklessly. It was apparent Anakin only learned of Luke within the last three rotations. _He's still alive._ He knew how strongly emotions ran in his former padawan's veins, particularly love, passion, and dedication. Anakin would have searched the wild starry yonder for eternity to find his children had he known of their existence. Obi-Wan also knew how strongly guilt, wrath, and grief ran in Anakin's veins. He would never forgive himself for allowing his children to go fatherless, parentless, for the first five years of their lives. Failing one child was egregious enough, but failing two? Unforgivable. Obi-Wan didn't have to be telepathic. He knew how his best friend ticked. He cast an iron grip onto bony shoulders and bent down to angle his head upwards to lock his eyes onto downcast cerulean ones, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that, as some kind of leverage in an argument. I know this is tearing you apart."

It was the understanding Anakin didn't even know he needed to hear. Somehow, his old master was still able to read him like an elementary book. He exhaled deeply then took a step back, "Another boy?"

The blonde stood upright again and crossed his arms, "A girl."

A mist shrouded over distressed eyes and cybernetic fingers distractedly raced through twisted tresses, "What's her name?"

"Leia," the Jedi responded with a small smile. "Senator Amidala named both her and Luke."

Anakin's eyes tightly closed and it seemed like his entire body began to tilt, "Where's Padmé? If she named Luke and Leia..."

"She's...she only survived a couple minutes after the second delivery."

He simply buried his face in his hands to shield his tears.

With the volatile man in this state of unguardedness, Obi-Wan took the chance to shift closer and grip his returned friend's elbows, "You're not alone, Anakin. Let me help."


	4. Die Like Flies

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars.

Warnings: Abuse of a child.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Four: Die Like Flies

 _Ahsoka, come to the opposite walkway. Southwest. You'll want to see this._

The little Togrutan looked down at her comlink in confusion. If Obi-Wan was southwest on the walkway, he hadn't gotten very far after they split up. Since two hooded figures roaming around together would draw too much attention, the plan was to divide and weed out spots to camp out in until the execution. However, she heard the abnormal emotion in his voice and knew he wouldn't deviate from the plan unless it was important. She backtracked to the gateway of the courtyard to cross over to the opposing walkway. When her brother-in-arms came into view, she realized he was not alone. Someone dressed in raggedy black clothes stood in front of him with their back to her.

The closer she came to the pair, the stranger she felt. A warm feeling wriggled up her spine and after a few seconds of concentration, she realized the feeling was from a liftetime ago. She didn't have to be told or see the person's face- _she knew_. Her breath was stolen from her lungs when she stopped and stared on disbelievingly. _It's not possible._ Obi-Wan caught sight of her and tried to smile in reassurance. The unidentified individual beside him noticed the smile aimed behind them and turned. All caution, doubt, and possibilities were thrown into the sun as she sprinted the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She flung her arms around Anakin and buried her face against his neck. Tears crawled from the corners of her eyes, but she gave no other indication she was crying. There was a moment's hesitation from the crippling pain in his body after Ahsoka launched herself at him, but Anakin soon secured his arms around his former padawan, "Hey, Snips."

The spacer pulled back to survey every inch of her old master's face: the grime, the hollow cheeks, the blood, the lightless eyes. The fall in her expression was unintentional, "You look _terrible_."

A half-smile graced his lips, "Glad to know you still hate the taste of sugarcoating."

She returned the smile, but it quickly faded, "How in the name of the radio galaxy is this possible? You…" Her words turned to whispers, "You fell into darkness."

"Even the darkness can't handle me."

The gravelly emotion in the response indicated he didn't want to discuss this sore subject, so she dropped it. She gave another brief hug, "You can't _imagine_ how elated I am to see you, Anakin. This is miraculous." Noticing people starting to shuffle along the courtyard, she was reminded how close it was to noontime. She took a couple steps back, "I'm sure Obi-Wan's already given you the skinny. I need to get back into position and-"

"Hold up, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan interjected, "there's a _slight_ change in tactics."

::::

Darth Noxion planned a show for the ages. The gruesomeness of Luke Skywalker's barbarous execution would be immortalized, passed down to future generations in fiendish folk tales. It would be a cautionary story for any remaining Jedi lurking in the shadows and to anyone entertaining the rebellion's persuasion.

Her long, lean limbs pranced with the grace of a tiger as she made her way through the underground fortress. A chain was entwined with her angular fingers and on the other end, a whimpering Luke was being led with a shock collar braced around his neck. The helpless child's hands were bound together by durasteel stun cuffs as his feet stumbled along to her rushed pace. He didn't comprehend the reason for what was happening, but _Noxtalia_ , as she introduced herself to him, made it clear today was his death date. She'd given him an explanation involving his father and chlorine, but her logic seemed nonsensical to him. Not that he exactly had a say in the matter.

She tugged him from passageway to passageway, weaving between stormtroopers and random bystanders. Eventually, they came to a flight of quadratic stairs and with no amount of pity, she began to lug him up like luggage. The five-year-old careened against the first few steps, scraping his knees on their jagged metal coating, and crawled frantically to his feet. He wiped his tears with the back of one of his cuffed hands before clutching onto the chain protruding from the front of his neck in an attempt to use it as a balance while his little legs speedily hopped up the stairs.

He felt like he'd scaled a mountain by the time they reached a tidy, chalky room with multi-colored furnishings. Before he could get a good look around, Noxtalia yanked him into another room. Her wide stride caused him to hustle to keep up and he scarcely got a glimpse of a motheaten painting of a woman in red robes before being jerked into the next room. This one was exponentially larger than the previous two, with turquoise marble floors and ivory statues, but received the same disregard. She put her hand up towards the ligneous double doors ahead and they flung open by themselves to reveal blinding sunlight.

Luke was gaspingly sobbing by the time they exited through the spacious doorway and met hundreds of piercing eyes. Dread swelled in the pit of his stomach as he gazed over all the unfamiliar faces. A short moment of immobilization was disrupted when Noxtalia mightily wrenched his chain forward. He staggered then fell to his already damaged knees. She didn't wait for the child to stand again before she effortlessly drug him along behind her like an unwilling lamb to the slaughter. Shocked faces sailed through Luke's vision as he was hitched along a narrow opening in the crowd. Tears, cries, and blood spilled from the frightened boy while he was sadistically pulled to the fountain in the dead center of the courtyard. A two-man camera crew fought with elbows through the horror-struck crowd to digitally capture every single movement and sound. The Sith apprentice made no indication she was aware of their presence when she came to a halt at the edge of the circular fountain.

She towed the chain in, little by little, to haul Luke closer to her. Luckily, he still had a stable hold on the chain, which prevented the brace of the shock collar from cutting into the tender flesh of his throat too badly. When she finally pulled him close enough, she maliciously stamped one of her leather boots down onto the chain to rigidly pin the injured youngling to the concrete by the neck.

She callously snarled and her mismatched eyes regarded the cowering civilians gathered, "This rotation, we restore order to our galaxy! We strike down the last of a savage breed which coveted control and committed unspeakable crimes unto the Old Republic and her people! Today's bloody rebellion, founded on the depraved religion of that savage breed, seeks to destroy the Empire and her people just the same! We will let Luke Skywalker's blood flow as freely as the water in the fountain before us and let all who wish to oppose peace and order know they will die like flies!"

Once her speech concluded, she unhooked a lightsaber from her black leather belt. A red beam sprouted forth when she smashed the stud and she removed her foot from the chain Luke's cuffed hands still gripped. She purposefully took off flesh as she scraped the tip of the lightsaber against the bottom of the shock collar with the intent to remove it. Luke released a pained yelp as blood dribbled into his filthy shirt. This brought a vicious smile to her face, but it also brought unanticipated guests.

The fountain rested on a runway in the center of the courtyard and healthy, fully-bloomed oak trees lined the the runway. Unbeknownst to the striped executioner, Luke's liberators patiently waited in the cloaking leaves for the right time to spring forth. Luke's cry of pain was a clear indication to both liberators it was time for action. Ahsoka pounced from an oak tree on the right side of the courtyard and Obi-Wan pounced from an oak tree on the left side. If Noxtalia was surprised, she didn't give any external signs of it. Her facial expression was blank and her single red lightsaber met theirs blow for blow. Obi-Wan noticed her eyes moved in different directions like a chameleon's and such sensitive vision most likely allowed her to keep up with the three lightsabers assailing her with little to no difficulty. Admittedly, her catlike reflexes and agility probably helped. Kicks, jabs, Force-pushes- she managed to endure or evade everything her opponents threw at her while still fending off every blow of their lightsabers.

This was taking much too long.

The Jedi Master knew the fastest way to land a hit and end this battle was to distract her. It was a simple, cheap ploy, probably too easy to work, but he was willing to try it to save Luke. His lightsaber never ceased in its assault as he called out, "Ahsoka! Leave her to me! Get Luke!"

Amazingly, his ploy worked.

Ahsoka learned long ago that when Obi-Wan said something stupid during battle, there was a hidden agenda in it. He had a plan and she was going to go by it because their saberplay certainly wasn't getting them anywhere and reinforcements would make it through the crowd at any time. She used both of her lightsabers to smack down a blow from her adversary. This caused a short recovery time and the couple seconds she needed to dart around the red-striped Sith to make a mad dash for Luke. The dark side warrior twisted in an attempt to Force-push the dashing Shilian without realizing it opened a window of opportunity for Obi-Wan to expertly slash his lightsaber across her torso.

However, as soon as the weapon made contact, Noxtalia ducked back and averted fatality. Still, she was wounded. This didn't stop her from hastily springing forward and spearing her neon red lightsaber at Obi-Wan. He deflected the strike and engaged her in another round of tit-for-tat saberplay. During this time, Ahsoka cut the excess of the chain around Luke's neck away and cut the center band of his stun cuffs so he could move his arms freely. She disengaged one of her lightsabers and blindly clipped it to her belt before kneeling on the concrete. She embraced Luke's waist and tugged him against her chest. Once the child was secured in her muscular arm, she didn't chance a glance backwards.

Her feet moved like greased lightning down the remainder of the runway and people gleefully made a path for her. Ahsoka didn't slow even when the sound of clashing sabers was out of range. By the time she could see the molt, she could see the stormtroopers. She was far from the fountain, but Obi-Wan was still not behind her. If she didn't fight through the oncoming wave of troops, no one would. Only when they were coming over the bridges at the end of the runway did she slow to a trot so she could address the child in her arms. She used the most concise and informative language she could, "Luke, my name is Ahsoka, I am a friend of your father's and I want to keep you safe. I need you to hold on _tight_ , both arms. Don't let go no matter what, okay?"

Her vision trained ahead at the stormtroopers hustling their immediate way, but she felt the boy nod his head. Cuffs dug into her flesh as little arms wrapped around her neck and bloodied knees constricted against her torso. About a dozen seconds later, her lightsaber sliced through a stormtrooper. She felt Luke press his face into the base of her neck as she carved a path to one of the bridges. She manually broke down the wall of flesh on the bridge, kicking the last stormtrooper over the rail and into the water.

She was very conscientious of the precious cargo on her arm as she deflected shots and took out random troopers. She made sure nothing hit him and was very cognizant of the position of his arms and legs. With immense speed and intent, she sprinted straight through the main turquoise gates of the courtyard. She didn't stop hotfooting it until she reached a wooded area some way from the palace. Her breathing was laborious and the sweat on her face reflected the midday sun by the time she came to a stop. There were luckily no pursuers that managed to follow her, but there was still no sign of Obi-Wan either.

Luke's raw, contused arms drew her attention. She leaned back and touched one of his tiny shoulders and his hold around her neck loosened. His knees and elbows were shred, his neck was bruised, there were welts on his face and hands, his limbs were scraped up, his little lips were cracked. He wasn't in the best of shape, but he could be much worse. Ahsoka hauled the five-year-old against her chest again and jogged the rest of the way to the corvette. It was parked well out of sight in a mildly forested area about four kilometers from the Theed Hangar.

When she remotely opened the hatch, a nervous Anakin immediately stepped forth with a hand against the overhead frame. His eyes were filled with perturbation and amazement as he gazed down at the little fair-haired boy in Ahsoka's arms. This was the child he never thought he would hold; the child he presumed to be lost; the child he thought he killed. Instinct and overwhelming heartache caused his hands to outstretch and cup his son's tear-stained cheeks.

A small, thrilled laugh bubbled from his lips when he felt the radial heat from Luke's face. He now had undeniable proof his child was here and alive before him. Another laugh, a more cheerless and affected laugh, escaped his lips, "We're pretty banged up, aren't we, cadet?"

Luke's colossal sky-blue eyes widened in question, "Are you friends with my daddy, too?"

Anakin blinked back king-sized tears as he delicately manipulated Luke from his friend's arms and hugged the battered child to his chest.

Now that Ahsoka's arms were free and she wasn't ruining a formative moment for father and son, she pulled a one-eighty and began jogging away. All attention was quickly drawn to the fleeing spacer, "Where are you going?"

She turned but continued jogging backwards, "Obi-Wan's still fighting a Sith apprentice and a _battalion_ of stormtroopers; I _really_ have to go back!"

" _You left him_?" Anakin yelped over his son's head.

"It was either him or Luke! He made it clear before we went in I was to choose Luke!" The former Jedi was practically out of earshot and sight when she complained, "Or I would be given one of his droll _talking to's_!"

 _Dammit, Obi-Wan. I didn't want you in the line of fire_. The Tatooinian shook his head. _Stop worrying. Obi-Wan can take care of himself._

"You're hurt."

His attention was drawn to the small boy in his arms. He rapidly blinked as he processed what Luke had said before replying, "Don't worry about me. Let's get you out of these restraints."

Without any second thought, his hand lifted and he employed the Force to break the brace and cuffs off his son's neck and wrists. There was no time to focus on his use of the Force when Luke peered up at him with stunned eyes, "Who are you?"

He wanted to break down; he wanted to explain everything; he wanted to apologize; he wanted to beg forgiveness. _You should be in your mother's arms, not mine._ Despite his feelings of inadequacy and culpability, he wasn't going to lie. There was enough pain and deception without him adding to it. The disgraced Jedi felt his teeth chatter, "I am…my name is Anakin Skywalker. I'm your father."

The hope in Luke's eyes was staggering, "Really?" The _yes_ given was barely audible, but it was heard all the same. Tiny arms enveloped the fallen Jedi's neck, "I knew I'd find you, Daddy."

This immense innocence and ready acceptance rejuvenated Anakin's tears. Again ignoring the pain in his body, his arms constricted around his son and the side of their heads pressed together. _If only you could be here to see him, Padmé._ Without explanation, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Luke. I'm _sorry_. _I'm sorry_." He planted a kiss in pale tresses, "I'm _so_ sorry."

Luke wasn't sure how to respond to these apologies, so he only held his father tighter. They were interrupted when a panting Ahsoka entered the corvette with an equally out-of-breath Obi-Wan close behind. Anakin was relieved his dear friends were safe, but the ache in his soul didn't subside.

Obi-Wan kneeled beside the Skywalkers, wiping perspiration from his brow, and established Anakin was emotional but not unhinged through eye contact alone. His attention turned to Luke, "Let's get those wounds taken care of, little one."

::::

After they applied copious amounts of bacta to Luke's wounds, they stuffed him full of ration cubes and bundled him up in a sleeper. Once the boy finally fell asleep, Obi-Wan announced he needed to go to the cabin to discuss their ground plan with Ahsoka. He was almost out of the rest compartments section of the ship when a fretful whisper sailed over his shoulder, "What was the official cause?"

He turned around to find Anakin standing a few feet behind him with anguished eyes glued to the floor, "The medical droids couldn't find a reason."

"It wasn't…" the disgraced Jedi trailed off, but the mechno-hand that clenched the front of his throat said everything.

"No, it wasn't."

"Then _what_? Did she have a uterine rupture, cardiac arrest, embolism, obstetrical hemorrhage? _I need to know what happened_ ," Anakin frantically demanded.

Obi-Wan tightly gripped his sleeves to resist reaching out and embracing his clearly distressed friend, "She was perfectly healthy. There was _nothing_ wrong when her vitals simply started dropping."

The brunette flinched back like he'd been slapped and his voice came out in near gasps, " _When_? _When_ did she deliver the twins? On that rotation, a rotation later, four rotations later, _when_?"

"It was two rotations later."

He didn't say anything else though his breathing grew heavier and his eyes fanned wildly. When he did finally speak, his gaze was still lowered and his words were most unexpected, "I'm going to go lay down."

He shakily turned around and took slow steps back towards Luke's compartment. The older Forceful wasn't sure what the date of Senator Amidala's death revealed, but it undoubtedly revealed _something_. With a sigh, he crossed his arms, turned, and headed for the cabin. This was one topic he knew better than to try to force Anakin to elaborate on.

The harrowing pain in Anakin's heart found some level of alleviation when he heard the deep breaths of his sleeping five-year-old. He laid down beside Luke on the sleeper and dotingly combed his flesh fingers through pale, unwashed hair. When he first learned of his children's fate, it felt strange to love someone so much without ever meeting them. As he looked upon the sleeping child's angelic face, he didn't know how he could ever feel strange about loving his son. Now they were finally together, he found his paternal affection was no issue; it was the overwhelming guilt he felt that caused distress.

It would take time and concentrated effort to defeat the guilt he felt every time he thought of his children. He left them alone, and _for what_? For power and control. He tried to steer the hand of fate and save their mother when in the end, he was the reason she was dead. _He_ was the reason they were motherless. _He_ was the reason why they were left with human wreckage for a father. _He_ was the reason they had to grow up in a climate of death and oppression. Nevertheless, if Leia could so willingly forgive him as Luke seemed to do, there was hope he could one day atone for his transgressions.

::::

Worry and anxiety brought Obi-Wan back to the rest compartments within half an hour. He tried to tell himself his returned friend was getting some rest, but he couldn't stop replaying the events of the last few hours. He was used to Anakin's mood swings and strong emotions, but they seemed to cycle more rapidly and occur more intensely than they did even before the two Forcefuls' five-year separation. He didn't know if it was all the stress or if something deeper was going on.

He silently looked into the compartment, only to find the father of two awake. The corners of his mouth upturned once he noticed mechanical fingers stroking Luke's hair and he turned to leave. However, the soft call of his name stalled him and he turned back towards the room.

"Don't take him from me."

One of the Jedi's hands grasped the frame of the door, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not stupid, Obi-Wan."

He defeatedly sighed and moved to sit on the vacant sleeper across the room, "No, you are certainly not stupid." His elbows rested on his knees and his hands clasped together. Rationale was the only way to win this argument, so he proceeded carefully, "Luke lives on Owen and Beru Lars' farm and I reside close by in the Jundland Wastes should he ever need me. Despite our proximity, this is the first time we've met. There is nothing I would like more after this debacle than to keep Luke with me, to ensure his safety every moment, but he deserves stability. The Larses and their farm is what he knows and we shouldn't rip him away from that. The Sith tried to rip him away from it and we cannot do the very thing we just prevented others from doing."

Tense silence was broken by a soft snarl, "Why don't you cut the phobium? Say what you really mean."

Well, he tried. He knew better than to try to deceive the mercurial man a second time, "You are unwell, Anakin. You can hardly stand up, let alone take care of a child. I know you're going to automatically buck up against the idea, but I'm suggesting we take Luke back to the salt flat while you stay with me. You will still be close by to him and surely we can arrange for visitations."

"No," Anakin hissed.

He stood up from the sleeper, "Just give it some thought. It's the best thing to do, for you and Luke."

The Tatooinian looked up with palpable umbrage, "How the kriff is it best for me?"

The Stewjonian dared to step forward and ghost his fingertips over his friend's cheek, "You are in pain so immense it is corroding your energy, body, and soul. You need to focus on healing."

He didn't wait for a response before leaving the compartment.

::::

As Obi-Wan sauntered into the cabin, he released a nearly inaudible sigh. His arms crossed and he took the seat beside Ahsoka, not even sparing her a glance or word as thoughts raced through his mind like comets. She planned to give him the space he seemed to require, but he swiveled the seat towards her. His eyes didn't meet hers and his voice was hesitant and perturbed, "He, uh, he is quite…he seems rather malnourished to me. Does he to you or am I neurotic?"

Despite the seriousness of the question, she gifted a small smile, "No, you're not neurotic, at least not about that. He is skeletal. It will take a lot of work to put some meat on his bones. But if I trust anyone to get him healthy again, I trust you." After a slight pause, she investigated, "Did he say no?"

A sardonic laugh slipped through his lips, "Of course."

"Give him time. He'll come around like an asteroid."

"I'm not so sure honestly," he raked a hand through his hair then spun his chair forward again.

"I am." He gave her a curious glance and leaned back in his seat. She only smiled again, "Luke would be nearby and with your silver tongue, I'm sure the Larses will agree to allow daily visitations. Anyway, I'm sure he won't pass up a chance for you two to live together."

Obi-Wan strangely twisted his shoulders and crossed his legs, "I'm not even going to _pretend_ I understand what you mean by that."

Ahsoka openly laughed, "Then I'm not even going to _pretend_ you don't know _precisely_ what I mean by that."

::::

Why was Obi-Wan always _right_? It was utterly maddening and oddly comforting. Just as he knew his destroyed body couldn't handle clashing with the Sith, Anakin knew his destroyed body couldn't hold up to or keep up with raising a child. He didn't want to be separated from his son for even a moment, but he knew Luke deserved the best care available. When he was younger and more reckless, he may have been able to convince himself of whatever bullshit, but through all he'd survived, one truth remained: Obi-Wan was unfalteringly right.

The older Force-user wasn't in the cabin. Unsure where else to look, he quietly slipped out unnoticed by Ahsoka and made his way back towards the rest compartments. On his way to Luke's compartment, he noticed a dim light on in the one a few paces down the hallway. Without making a sound, he glided to the open door and found Obi-Wan silently moving around micro-books and dissembled parts of a pick-up droid. His voice was almost mousey when he called out, "Hey."

Obi-Wan gave a slight start but recovered swiftly, turning with his natural grace and dropping his fisted hands to his side, "Yes?"

Anakin looked to the floor then entered the room and closed the distance between them, "The only way I will do as you ask is if you can _promise me_ daily visits with Luke. When we get to Tatooine, _promise me_ you will talk to them and arrange it. We also have to get security scanners with alert monitors that sound off in your house and at least one defense droid at the farm, otherwise he could be taken just as easily as before." He figured the desperation in his voice was evident when Obi-Wan stepped closer, "If you don't _promise me_ those things, Luke is coming with me and…and who knows when you'll see us again."

Even though he knew he could easily stop the weakened man from taking off with Luke if necessary, Obi-Wan didn't combat the threat. He merely placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and assured, "I _promise_ I will take care of it, Anakin. There's nothing going to stand in the way between you and Luke. Moreover, I hope you know, especially after today, I will do everything within my power to keep your son safe." He didn't know why a glimmer of tears appeared in sapphire orbs, but whatever the reason, he felt the need to tack on, "I will do everything within my power to keep you safe."

Anakin looked searchingly into emerald eyes, as though he thought he was being tricked. When he found no traces of deception, he stepped forward, ignoring the excruciating pain still lingering in his body, and tentatively wrapped his arms around his best friend's neck, "I've missed you so much, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan returned the embrace, "Not as much as I've missed you."


	5. This Is Only Our First Night

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars- perhaps I should state this story makes no money as well.

Author's Note: Well, at least four people like the story and there hasn't been review after review telling me the sacred cow spits on it, so let's keep going.

Warnings: From this chapter on out, the voice in Anakin's head becomes more persistent and it is very unkind (ie is degrading, speaks things of crude/sexual nature, etc.)- if this is problematic for you, do not read this fanfic any further. This is the only warning about the voice I will give.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Five: This Is Only Our First Night

Obi-Wan managed to convince the Lars patriarch to allow Anakin daily visits with Luke, but there was a catch.

It was clear Owen Lars did not truly want Anakin coming around the farm or Luke and he set the condition all visits must be supervised _by Obi-Wan_. Obi-Wan kept that little detail under wraps as he related the news of the negotiation to Anakin. It was best he reveal that condition in private and bear the brunt of the disgraced Jedi's rage personally.

However, Owen Lars couldn't _take it_! Was there no _decency_ left? He did _not_ like the repulsive look of Luke's so-called father and he was even _less_ enthused about the _horror stories_ he'd heard about the black nerf traitor. He was going to spell it out _nice_ and _clear_ who was calling the shots in _this_ ballgame! He marched up relatively close to the two quietly-talking men as they slowly walked towards the corvette and loudly reminded Ben not to let the _unwashed savage_ near the Great Chott salt flat unaccompanied.

This did _not_ sit well with the unwashed savage. The shouting, cursing, and pinkish radiance illuminating his rabid eyes made it clear to even Owen Lars to refrain from any further provocation.

Obi-Wan immediately tried to silence Anakin and steadfastly stepped in front of him as soon as he took a step towards his verbal-assault victim. Though Obi-Wan met substantial resistance, he manually turned his infuriated friend around.

When Anakin attempted to glare menacingly over his shoulder at the red-faced moisture farmer, Obi-Wan slung an arm around him and quietly soothed, "It will be alright, you won't have to see him. I'll take care of it. Come now, let's go home."

He gritted in low tones through clenched teeth, "I want to twine his intestines around his throat."

The older Forceful didn't bat an eye, "No, you don't. If you did that, your five-year-old son would witness the resulting carnage."

He croakily conceded, "Let's go home then."

Obi-Wan kept an arm around his shoulders, for comfort and for insurance, as they walked back towards the corvette. Streaks of incandescent pink still lingered in his eyes when Ahsoka opened the hatch. She caught sight of the coloration instantly and wisely withheld her questions, instead turning straight back around and making her way towards the cabin. The two former generals stepped into the ship and sealed the hatch. Obi-Wan was shut down the second he opened his mouth to speak.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Anakin turned and headed towards the rest compartments section before waiting for a response. Obi-Wan let out an inaudible sigh at the retreat but didn't pursue. Instead, he tiredly made his way to the cabin and sat down in the co-pilot seat. Ahsoka and he sat in cautious silence while she fired up the engines and took to the sky. She was almost afraid to inquire what happened at the Larses' residence, fearing Anakin lost his chance to visit Luke. What frightened her more were the irresponsible immoralities he would commit if Owen Lars refused him his son. Her wandering mind didn't have to go far before Obi-Wan freely commented, "He still has a way with people."

"Did he draw blood or just fling a cluster of Huttese expletives around?" the Shilian lightly jested.

He heftily exhaled in exasperation, "In the course of the confrontation, he called Mister Lars corpulent, insensate, misshapen, ill-bred, amoebalike, worthless, and _taeditet,_ whatever that means, and declared the poor man to be a bastard, a bitch, a sand flea, and a cercopithecoid. Of course, he had to throw in that Missus Lars is a mastodon and they are trying to steal his son because they're grabby, predatory sickos that like destroying families. I finally got him to stop talking about there."

"He handled it better than I expected."

Obi-Wan couldn't stop the small grin that stretched over his lips, "I'd like to think it's a blend between my fine childrearing and his voyage into maturity that's brought him to this composed, considerate phase of life."

Ahsoka wore an impish smile when she turned back towards the windshield. However, the humor was lost by the time she observed, "His eyes recolored."

"They did," he nodded, "though I'm not quite sure what it means. Anakin's always had a nasty temper and an even nastier mouth. Still, something moved over him and exacerbated his behavior just now. When he was consumed by darkness before, he had no control over himself. He couldn't be reasoned with, couldn't be talked down. I was able to get through and converse with him back there."

"Something tells me you have a theory about it."

"I suspect there's possibly an aftereffect, traces of darkness still lingering within him. It's like an addict kicking narco-spice. When they stop, they go into withdrawal, but they have to wait out adverse symptoms until the drug is out of their system."

"It's been five years since he was overcome," she reminded unhappily. "The symptoms of withdrawal appear to be ongoing. What if the traces of darkness never evacuate his system? What if he remains this way?"

He resolutely crossed his arms, not seeking even a moment to consider the negative implications, "So be it."

She bit her lip for a moment before finally muttering, "You're going to have to watch over him from sun-up to sundown. If he goes ballistic-"

"I don't care."

The rest of the route was made in taciturnity. She knew it was pointless to try to convince the Jedi it wasn't wise to live in close quarters with their recovered comrade. As soon as that hooded figure turned around on the walkway in Theed, she knew Obi-Wan's life was no longer his own. There was never a question of what he was going to do: he was going to dedicate his life to keeping Anakin safe and healthy. Even if it cost him everything in return. Her most consuming fear was a reversion or, even worse, that this was all an illusion. She heard what it took for Obi-Wan to realize Anakin was lost the last time. She cringed to think what it would take a second time. Obi-Wan's home in the Jundland Wastes came into view. After planetfalling, they stood from their seats and she swiftly turned to grab his shoulder, "That temper is going to turn on you eventually. You know this."

"I don't care."

As he walked past her, she gave a sigh and turned her gaze to the floor, "I _really hate_ to say this. I hope you know I do." She warily met his curious gaze, "Did you ever think Anakin returning to the light is too good to be true? Have you even considered this might be a ploy by the Sith, by _Darth Vader_ , to kill you? Vader knows he can't kill you in a battle of brute physical and Force strength. Did you ever think this isn't really Anakin? That it's Darth Vader trying to play the part of Anakin? It would explain the even-more-than-usual explosive temper and the pink eyes."

His voice maintained a cool tone, though his flaring nostrils gave away his crossness, "How would you explain when his eyes are azure? Like they were earlier today?"

"Intraocular implants? Maybe even they can't conceal the iris coloration the dark force imposes when he's enraged. Or dark side voodoo? Maybe another abuse of the Force they love to delve into."

He turned away from her and quietly, crisply whispered, "This is Anakin."

" _No one_ has ever stepped back into the light after being engulfed by the darkness, Obi-Wan. _No one_. I know Anakin Skywalker was an exceptional man, but this is too unachievable, even for him," she swallowed heavily and clutched the headrest of the pilot's seat.

"I know Anakin. I know the cadence of his speech, his normal pattern of breathing, the types of words he uses. I know his humor, what will make him upset, what to say to make him less upset. I know his anxious tics, I know when he's faking a smile. I know the tense way he holds his mechno-arm, the normal angle of his posture, how wide his average stride is." Obi-Wan transitorily paused to look back at Ahsoka, "This _is_ Anakin."

"I don't want to see you get hurt," she miserably admitted when he treaded to the doorway.

"You can't imagine what Anakin's return means to me," he quietly declared as his hands raised to securely grip the doorframe.

"I think I can," the renounced Jedi contended. "That doesn't mean you should fork all your trust over to him again. At least, not right away."

His hands dropped from the doorframe, "I didn't say he has my trust. He'll have to earn that back."

She couldn't stop herself from asking the last burning question on her mind, "What if it happens again?"

Without sparing a glance, he stopped, crossed his arms, and vowed, "It will kill me. Whether our sabers clash again or not… if I lose him again, it will kill me."

Once he was out of sight, she mumbled to herself, "That's what I'm afraid of."

::::

Anakin noticed a drastic difference in Ahsoka within a matter of hours. When they were first reunited, she embraced him and expressed how elated she was to see him again. It didn't take too much time before she put distance between them and answered his attempts at conversation with small, tight smiles. After he and Obi-Wan returned to the corvette from the moisture farm, she wouldn't even look at him. When Obi-Wan escorted him off the ship to show him around what was to be his new home, she told Obi-Wan they needed to talk and stayed behind. He didn't have the first clue what they spoke of, but when the Stewjonian came back from the ship without Ahsoka, he walked into the blazing desert day as swiftly as he could with the pain radiating in his thin frame.

His former padawan was boarding the vessel when he called out, "Snips, wait up!" She turned with her arms folded behind her back and forced her eyes to meet his as he approached. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

She nervously wiped a hand over her browbone, "Sorry, my thoughts were wound up like cosmic strings. I didn't even realize I hadn't said goodbye."

His brows lowered in disbelief and he easily picked up the distress in her facial expression and voice, "Banthashit. Don't start lying to me now."

She took a moment before finally braving her old master's stare, "Fine. Honestly? I'm not sure if I believe this or not."

"Believe what?" his head shook in misunderstanding.

"Believe that this is _you_ , back from the dark side," she confessed and waved a hand towards him.

"What the hell else would it be?"

"I'm not sure," the spacer pressed a palm against her forehead, "a trick of the Sith or something equally nefarious."

"I…" his eyes darted around before meeting hers again, "I don't know what to do to convince you, Ahsoka. What do you want me to do?"

"Prove me wrong. Don't hurt Obi-Wan. Be there for Luke. Just _prove me wrong_."

"I want to be there for Luke," he earnestly insisted. "I want to shield him and nurture him and give him anything he may want or need. I will _never_ abandon him like I did five years ago. Especially not for something as _transitory_ and _hollow_ as power or as _perfidious_ as affairs of state." His voice shrunk, "I don't want to hurt Obi-Wan again. You don't know how much I despise myself for betraying him, for attempting to hurt him. The last thing I said to him was _I hate you_ and if it takes until my last breath, I will earn his forgiveness and earn his friendship back. Conversely, if my last breath is what's needed to stop from hurting him again, I would _welcome_ it."

Appeased by the sincerity and devotion in his voice, she sighed, "You really do sound like your old self." She reached to her belt and pulled a small device from a zipper pocket. She held it out to Anakin, "Here, take this comlink. Keep in touch with me, okay? Let me know how things are going here and I'll let you know how things are going out there."

He received the comlink then grasped her wrist, disregarding her unsure expression. The aches and pains in his body were too ignored as he dragged her into an unannounced hug, "I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you. I hope eventually you can forgive me for all the torment and horror I caused."

He stepped out of the embrace as soon as the words were spoken with the intent to make tracks back to his new home but delicate words stilled his feet.

"You already have my forgiveness. What I need is reassurance."

"Then you shall receive it," he offered a salute over his shoulder.

::::

As Obi-Wan finished laying the coverlet over the bed in the extra bedroom, he considerately looked up, "I will go to the Market Place in Mos Eisley tomorrow to purchase you new garb. They have the kind you like. You can borrow something of mine for tonight."

Anakin's face became serious despite his joking inquiry, "What's wrong with the clothes I'm wearing?"

Obi-Wan stood upright and put his hands on his cocked hips, "Mud, blood, grime, tatters, and bloodcurdling odor should be all I need to say. You're not getting in _this_ clean bed with _those_ clothes on."

"Oh, Obi-Wan," the younger Forceful grinned tiredly, "you haven't loosened up at all since I've been gone."

Obi-Wan's chin dropped and he looked at the mouthy brunette from under flashing lashes, "Yes, and you still like to try my patience."

Anakin's smile turned toothy as he leaned against the wall, "I suppose you're going to demand I get in the shower before I dare touch your clothes, yeah?"

"I'm _touched_ you would remember I enjoy cleanliness."

"Why, of course. Second only to your enjoyment of condescension."

"Go get in the shower," he commanded as his hands dropped from his hips and he moved to turn down the sheets.

"Yes, chief," Anakin snickered and pushed off the wall.

"Be mindful of the limited water supply."

An expression reading _A_ _re you serious_ passed over Anakin's face, "I hail from this planet."

"Yes, you do."

"I took showers for nine years on this planet."

"Yes, you did."

"I know to be mindful of the limited water supply."

Obi-Wan exasperatedly rolled his eyes, "Accept the friendly reminder and go take a shower."

Anakin couldn't fight the smile that stretched over his lips. He passed through the doorway but doubled back, his smile lost and his humbled eyes fixed on the beige flextile floor, "I-I forgot to tell you…I used the Force today." A quick glance up found Obi-Wan's perplexed stare. His focus swiftly shifted back to the floor, "That probably doesn't…Let me start over. I haven't used the Force in five years. Not since…But I used it earlier today when Ahsoka brought Luke to the corvette to take off his restraints. I didn't even consider it at the time. It didn't even cross my mind. I didn't realize it until you were showing me around this place, for whatever reason."

He became paranoid in the ensuing pause. Unable to look into his friend's eyes and find any amount of bitterness or dissatisfaction, he prattled on, "I wanted- _needed_ to tell you. I've abstained from using the Force because I didn't want to chance the dark side re-entering me. I was afraid any amount of cosmic stimulus would instantaneously be blackened and I would be consumed again. Then the minute I saw those fucking stun cuffs on my son, like he was a slave, the Force flowed through me before I willfully permitted it or even considered it. I broke my restraints without a first thought, let alone a second, and I needed you to know."

Although he was surprised all this was freely confessed to him, Obi-Wan managed a heartening smile as he paced to the other side of the bed, "You've given into much worse impulses than helping your son, Anakin." When his smile was returned, he cooed, "Now off you go. Stay under that water until your skin is its natural color again."

Anakin nodded with a widened grin, "Right, chief."

Not much time passed before he stripped off the last piece of clothing he wore and turned towards the shower door. Unexpectedly, he encountered a metaphorical knife to the gut. A rustic mirror was perched above the sink and it reflected a horrifying vision. Raised high enough that he only had to see from his waist up, he still saw more than he bargained for. _How did none of them flee in terror?_ His eyes were sunken into dark circles, his cheeks were gaunt, his hair was greasy and knotted, his skin was filthy and crusted with blood, he was all angles and bones. Luke, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka all embraced him like he didn't look like a battered corpse. _To be fair, Ahsoka did tell me I look terrible._ He never tried to acquire a mirror while staying in the Lake Country hut and he wish he didn't have one now. _I'm nauseating._ His hands smeared over his face and his head shook with a growl at himself, "Suck it the flott up. Who cares?"

 _You want Obi-Wan to find you attractive._

"He never found me attractive."

 _You want him to fuck you._

He barked back, "Get out of my head."

 _Poor Anakin. Here with Obi-Wan, who is still as sexy, magnetic, and beautiful as he's always been and you're a cadaverous, hideous, ill-natured goblin. He wouldn't touch you before and he especially won't now._

"Stop trying to use him to make me spiral out of control. All you want is for me to harm him and I will never harm him again."

 _Oh, not only will you harm him, but you'll break his will and annihilate every single facet of his being. The vileness in you is vast._

"I will not harm him. I won't lay a hand on him."

 _When did I ever say you will lay a hand on him?_

His mouth moved, but the taunt went unaddressed. He heard nothing else as the pace of his breathing increased and decided it was best to distract himself. He moved from the mirror to the shower and slid open the glass door to step inside. As soon as he turned on the showerhead, the spray of water elicited a hiss. It beat against the raw wounds over his ribs and chest mercilessly. _See where your anger problems get you?_ Spinning around to relieve the pain only drew a louder hiss as the warm water pulverized the open wounds he forgot about on his back. _This wouldn't be a Force-damn problem if you'd been able to control yourself after reading that fucking bulletin._ He stepped out of the spray and leaned his flat palms against the slippery walls, getting a clear view of the gash on his forearm, and mentally prepped for the upcoming pain. _But no, you felt compelled to use your right arm to throw the canister of bacta against a Force-damn tree._ He pushed back under the water after a couple moments and heaved through the stinging bites in his wounds. He knew how unhappy Obi-Wan would be with him if he didn't come out sparkling.

Teeth were grit tight as the filth was gradually washed from his person. Once he was sure Obi-Wan would be pleased, he turned off the faucet and leaned his hands against the shower wall once more. In time, he caught his breath and opened the shower door to grab a light blue towel from a rack on the wall. After drying off, he started towards the exit but stopped short. Suddenly, the image he beheld in the mirror flashed through his mind and he didn't want to go out in only a towel. In his newly-acquired self-consciousness, he cracked the door to the fresher open to timidly call out, "Obi-Wan?"

He heard a few shuffling noises then approaching footsteps, "What is it? Is everything alright?"

"Fine," he lied. "You said you have something I can wear tonight, right?"

"Yes, it's in your bedroom," was the innocent rejoinder.

He consciously tried to stop his voice from shaking, "Can you bring it to me?"

Normally, Obi-Wan would never indulge such tripe. Anakin was a grown man and could easily walk to the bedroom and get his own change of clothes. However, a few things didn't sit right. For starters, in spite of the ineffective attempt to mask it, the Jedi could discern by voice alone how jittery his old padawan was. Anakin's normal speaking voice was very strong and commanding. Sometimes he was louder than he realized or intended and he usually always sounded irritated even if he wasn't. Whenever he spoke in the quivering voice just used, something was wrong and it was usually serious.

Secondly, if there were no problems as the Tatooinian claimed, yet he refused to exit the fresher until he was clothed, he plainly did not want to be seen _un_ clothed. Anakin had never been anything less than absolutely secure about his body, at least that was always so when it was only him and Obi-Wan and no one else around. What made him become so insecure about his body that it would cause him to ask for help- something else that was strange within itself- to avoid displaying it? _Because you've lost weight?_ Ultimately, Obi-Wan responded, "Sure, hold on."

He retrieved the outfit from Anakin's new bedroom and handed it through the small opening in the door. After receiving a curt thanks, he went back to the sitting room and waited. When his friend finally emerged from the fresher, his worries were momentarily forgotten and a grin decorated his lips. The younger Force-sensitive looked lightyears better than he did when he went in. His hair was no longer matted and fell into its natural honey ringlets. Blood no longer caked his brows or dipped into the lines of his lips and his skin was back to its immaculately bronze complexion. _As beautiful as always, my dear._ Obi-Wan pushed that thought to the back of his brain as he quipped, "Do you feel human again?"

"I didn't know I was ever not human."

Between this response and the odd request minutes before, Obi-Wan's smile faded, "That was a joke. Did something unpleasant happen in the refresher?"

"No," Anakin began frantically pacing around the sitting room then suddenly strode to his new bedroom.

Obi-Wan made a split-decision to allow the oddly-behaving man a cool off period while he checked the fresher for any abnormalities. Upon entry, he didn't notice anything bizarre or noteworthy. The room looked as it usually did and nothing seemed out of place. The only thing even the slightest out of order was the blue towel left in a ball on the floor. The Stewjonian rolled his eyes though he was endeared by the characteristic disorderliness.

"Still can't pick up after himself," he merrily grumbled and picked the towel up off the floor. As he untangled it to hang it over the rack, he found copious amounts of fresh blood on it. _The wound on his back._ He dropped the towel and nearly sprinted through the house, not even bothering to knock before charging into his injured housemate's room. He found the brunette curled up in bed with both eyes squeezed shut and body unbelievably tense. He paced to the side of the bed, "On your stomach."

The dismissal came out strained, "I'm fine."

He covered the man's protruding hip with his hand, "Don't make me manhandle you on the first night."

Anakin felt tingling shivers course over the side of his body, branching down his thigh and up his shoulder, at the touch. He followed the directive without argument and rolled onto his stomach, which allowed him to hide his pained expression in a pillow. He'd pressured his wounds with that blue towel until they stopped seeping before dressing and leaving the bathroom, so if he kept his movements to a minimum, he might be able to get through this situation without bleeding through his black, long-sleeved shirt.

Even though the garment was drawn up only enough so the deep fissure on his lower back could be inspected, he didn't want his best friend to see even a millimeter of his bare flesh. However, his want for Obi-Wan to touch him was greater than his fear of Obi-Wan seeing his decrepit temple. He was simultaneously grateful and apprehensive when warm fingertips traced over his back and he prayed the goosebumps prickling over his skin went unnoticed. Even if they were noticed, they weren't mentioned.

"I feared it was going to be much worse considering all the blood on that towel," the fretful blonde breathed in relief. He couldn't make out what kind of weapon caused the deep-tissue damage since there were no tracks from a knife or burns from a lightsaber, but he treated the wound with care all the same. His hand hovered over the wound, "You know how this goes: hold still."

Anakin did as he was told. A few unintelligible murmurs helped to bring forth a blue-white glow that soon dimmed and erased the piercing sensation in his lower back. He chose not to inform his healer he sustained more open wounds and climbed onto his elbow to roll over, "Thanks."

Obi-Wan again settled his hand on his friend's hip, "Let me use the shirt to wipe off the excess blood so you don't get it on the bed." He gently wiped the blood away and stood upright, "I'll get you another shirt. Take this one off. I'll be right back."

The brunette swallowed nervously. He knew if he didn't remove his shirt by the time Obi-Wan returned it would raise colossal suspicion. Enough had been raised as it was and he really didn't want to explain his diffidence. Between humiliation, fear, and ego, he'd rather eat hot coals than tell Obi-Wan he was insecure. He hesitantly sat up and peeled off his bloodied shirt, tossing it on the floor. He tried to feign confidence while waiting shirtless on the bed but one glance down at his jutting bones and disfiguring scars and he went to pieces. His arms giftwrapped around his torso instinctively. He recognized how fishy that appeared and tried to drop his arms but ended up in the fishier position of his legs folded against his chest with his arms around his knees. Obi-Wan returned at this point.

He noticed how his old padawan was sitting, as if ashamed of being seen, right away. The prior events of the evening suddenly added up. _Have you forgotten who I am?_ Nonetheless, he decided against saying anything. If Anakin wanted to talk about it, he would do so on his own time. If there was one aspect about Anakin that never altered it was that he did everything in his life on his own time. Obi-Wan leaned down to place the clean shirt on the end of the bed when he happened to see through his housemate's limbs, "Lower your arms and legs."

"Spast, I can put on the shirt. You don't have to help me."

"No," he brushed off the irritable comments, "I see prominent lines of blood on your chest and ribcage." His mystified eyes searched the other man's face, "Why are you trying to hide from- hide these wounds from me?"

"I don't want you worrying about me."

The appalled Jedi moved around the bed with a shake of the head, "It will take all of a _minute_ to heal those wounds. Do you have anymore?"

"No."

He sat down on the side of the bed and promptly saw a mark peeking out from under a folded arm. He touched the pad of his forefinger under Anakin's chin to draw their eyes together, "Do you have anymore?"

The panicky Force-sensitive tugged his face to the side to disconnect the light touch, "It's nothing I can't handle."

"I don't doubt that. That doesn't change the fact I'm not going to leave you sitting around with open wounds."

Denial was a wasted labor. Sky-blue eyes squeezed shut, "I know you can see the one on my forearm. There's another one on my back, higher up."

"Is that all?" When the question only received a faint nod, Obi-Wan knew he wasn't getting a straight answer, "Where else?"

"It's…it's on my thigh."

His eyebrows knitted at the fretful tone in the admission. He did his best to soothe any concern, "That's fine, I will heal it."

He shifted closer on the side of the bed and raised his hand over Anakin's ribcage. Although he was focused on incantations for the Force-healing, he noticed quivers pulsating over his patient's incredibly tense body. He made no mention of his observations, as he didn't want to exacerbate whatever emotional distress his housemate appeared to be in. The quivers seemed to grow increasingly worse as he repeated the healing process over the slighter man's chest, forearm, and upper back. Still, he refrained from comment. However, he could not overlook the reaction to the attention the last wound received. He reached for the waistband of Anakin's sleep pants, intending to untie and remove them so he could get to his friend's thigh, when feeble hands shoved him away and a timid voice whimpered, "Don't."

Obi-Wan's hands and voice lowered, "What's going on, Anakin?"

"I can't do this," he moaned and rolled away from his healer. His hand automatically reached down and twisted into the waistband of his pants. As though he was afraid Obi-Wan would try to take them off without his permission.

 _What have they done to you?_ The older Force-sensitive leaned forward on his hand to move closer to the trembling man but still left a comfortable distance between them, "I won't even make contact. You know there's no need for me to. Your clothes can stay exactly where they are. It will take a little more time and concentration on my part, but all I'm asking is that you hold still for a few minutes."

Placated by these promises, Anakin lifted his hand from his pants and laid still as a hand hovered close to him. Numerous murmured incantations assisted in bringing forth a familiar, flickering blue-white glow. Cobalt eyes were still squeezed tight when Obi-Wan's fingertips touched his shoulder, "Finished."

He flinched and hunched his shoulder inwards, "Don't touch me right now."

Trying to squash his overwhelming worry with distraction, Obi-Wan stood from the bed and assigned himself a task, "I'm going to make sapir tea. After you dress, if you feel like it, come to the sitting room and I'll get you a cup."

To Anakin's relief, Obi-Wan turned and left the room.

::::

The only thing he could think of as he made tea was the events that unfolded in the bedroom. Not only had Anakin never recoiled from him like that, but he'd never, _never_ seen the prodigy Force-wielder display that level of fear. Anakin was an incredibly strong, fearless individual and Obi-Wan could only imagine what he must have gone through, physically and psychologically, in the last five years that would cause him to behave in such a manner. The way he whimpered and protectively grappled at his clothes sent supernova remnants through Obi-Wan's body and soul. The only reason he could think of for those reactions made him want to scream, sob, and strike something all at the same time. _He's been violated._

He shook his head and removed the teapot from the warmer. _I have no proof of that._ He tried to push the thought from his mind, but every time he recalled that dithering _don't_ and Anakin's hand clenching that fabric, his mind strayed to the worst case scenario. The night's preceding events added to the speculation. _It would explain why he no longer wants to be seen without clothes._ His shaking hands gripped the edge of the countertop and his eyes crammed shut. _Who could possibly be capable of overpowering him like that?_ Palpatine came to mind, but the Dark Lord was an extremely unlikely candidate. It wasn't his customary method of operation. No, it would have had to of been someone else, but that was even more inexplicable. The only individuals with a power level nearly equivalent to the fallen Jedi's was Palpatine, Yoda, and _Obi-Wan himself_. _Safe to say_ neither of the latter two was the culprit.

Perhaps something was being overlooked here. _Maybe they spaced him out._ If the individual wasn't as strong as or stronger than Anakin, perhaps they drugged him. _Most likely with somatoll._ Perhaps there wasn't any narcotizing involved and they managed to catch Anakin off-guard, stunning him and imprisoning him in one way or another. This seemed like the less likely sequence of events though.

Whichever occurred, these were really the only two feasible circumstances in which someone as Force-proficient as Anakin would be able to be violated. _But he said he hadn't accessed the Force in five years._ Obi-Wan accidentally crushed the tea leaves in his hand. _He basically stopped eating, he lost all the weight, lost all his strength, he stopped using the Force. What if it was after the War, after he settled on Naboo? Just a random…_

His teeth clenched and his exhales came out in hitches. The fragments of tea leaves crumbled from his hand and he grasped the edge of the countertop again. If it took from this moment to eternity, he would find the vermin that dared to touch Anakin and make sure they could _never touch anything again_.

That would have to wait for now though. Right now, he needed to tend to his cherished faneta. What could he do to comfort Anakin? He didn't want to bring down any pressure and although he wanted to help with the healing process, he knew it needed to start and progress naturally. There was only room for patience and compassion in this house and to ensure both were given in abundance, he decided to play by ear. He would give reassurance when it was needed, give space when it was needed, give understanding when it was needed, and give reason when it was needed. There was no alternative if he wanted to help his best friend be a whole person again.

The opening of a door sounded through the house and he realized he still hadn't finished brewing the tea. He retrieved more sapir leaves and went fast to work.

Anakin leisurely dressed and made his way towards the sitting room, drawn by the prospect of tea and, above all, Obi-Wan's company. He saw the blonde fussing about the teapot in the kitchen as he made his way across the sitting room and took a seat on the coffee-colored couch. The entire home smelled of sapir, eukamint oil, and Mandalorian oranges. The aromas steeped his olfactory senses no matter where he went but were especially potent in the sitting room. He leaned further into the couch with a smile. _You still smell the same, my Obi-Wan._

"Tea, then?" Obi-Wan peered around the corner of the kitchen doorway.

It was as though nothing peculiar occurred in the bedroom. His smile grew, "You're going to give me a cup even if I say no."

"I believe that's a _yes_ ," the determined man nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.

He shook his head. Obi-Wan soon came back around the corner with two cups of steaming, freshly-brewed tea. He took a seat on the couch and handed his friend one of the cups. That's when he noticed the leather glove over Anakin's mechno-arm, "Why are you still wearing your glove?"

"What are you talking about? I always wear my glove."

"Yes, in public. We aren't in public anymore. Or am I a part of the public now?"

"No. I don't like to look at it anymore. That's all."

Figuring this issue tied into the ones demonstrated in the fresher and bedroom, he backed off. He instead turned to a topic pressing more heavily on his mind, "Where did those wounds come from?"

"W-what?"

"The open wounds I healed. Where did they come from?"

The younger Forceful's teacup began to tremor and his breathing became audibly heavier. Easily perceiving he pushed too far too quickly, Obi-Wan went into reverse, "You don't have to answer. Forget I mentioned it." When the shimmer of tears welled up in distraught oceanic eyes, he shifted his teacup to one hand and twisted around, "Anakin." Once he saw eyelids fluttering wildly, he couldn't help but reach forward to grasp a mechanical knee, "Anakin."

The touch didn't even register; Anakin's merciless mind had consumed him. The many wounds he'd sustained over the last five years were reminders that he was pathetic and weak-willed, that he was damaged goods, that he'd afforded power with the cost of blood. He'd given his wife's blood, his fellow Jedi's blood, his own blood. They were reminders that all the blood he spilled meant _nothing_. He was the blemished incarnate of evil and all the credits in the galaxy would never buy back his soul. How could his old master nonchalantly speak of the tributes to the demon dwelling within him? He turned weepy eyes to the worried man beside him, "How can you so readily accept me into your home like this? Heal my wounds and serve me tea?"

The words were spoken like gospel truth, "You are my brother, Anakin."

They were met with soundless self-deprecation, "I am nothing."

Obi-Wan looked forward and his hand gravitated over his mouth, anxiously rubbing before his head whipped around to find flooding eyes again, "Do you have _any_ idea what kind of grief I went through while you were gone, _because_ you were gone? It was so devastating I lost the ability to _feel_."

Anakin looked despondently to the floor, so Obi-Wan ducked closer to convey the solemnity of his words, "Every rotation, I repeated the same routine, never hoping for anything different because I was numb and I preferred to be numb than to feel what I _should_ have felt. I lost the closest person in my life and there was nothing I could do about it. I hadn't been able to prevent you from falling into darkness; I hadn't been able to save you from it. I wasn't able to bring you back. When it hit me I'd lost you, it crippled my emotions so conclusively, I couldn't use them anymore. I didn't want to… The minute I saw you in Theed, I was revived."

He relinquished the knee in his tight grip to wipe away two roving tears that fell from incredulous, blue doe eyes, "You're my best friend and I'm so ecstatic to have you in my house, healing your wounds and serving you tea."

More tears slipped over Anakin's eyelashes when his face jerked away the tender touch, "I don't merit this, any of this."

"Anakin-"

The teacup shook violently, "I don't merit Luke's acceptance, your kindness, Ahsoka's forgiveness, _none of it_."

"I don't care what you think you deserve," Obi-Wan clutched the upset man's shaking hand, "it's what I want to give you."

"You should want to toss me out like the garbage I am."

The distraught man shoved off the couch, clumsily placing his teacup on the coffee table, and virtually dashed across the sitting room. Obi-Wan slid his teacup on the table as well and trailed close behind. They skipped up the stairs to the landing and raced through the front door one right after the other. The older Forceful followed a few meters behind the younger one through the moonless night across sandy terrain. They trekked all the way to the Dune Sea before he called out, "Anakin, stop!"

Anakin followed the order, if only because he didn't know what else to do, and stooped over without warning to place his head in his hands. By the time Obi-Wan finally caught up to him, he was nearly hyperventilating from sobbing. The Jedi circled round and drew his friend into his arms to allow a hand-covered face to rest against his chest, "I didn't tell you all that to upset you. I was trying to express how euphoric I am to have you here with me."

Mismatched arms enfolded around Obi-Wan in a desperate embrace, "You can't _imagine_ how much I missed you. I'd see your face in my dreams. I'd hear your voice. I remembered how disappointed in me and ashamed of me you were. _Every single_ word you spoke on that last rotation was etched on my heart, played in my ears night after night. I relived trying to kill you every time I closed my eyes and I wanted to _die_. I never thought…" The brunette drew in a wobbly breath and straightened to his full height to press his face into caramel hair. The scent of sapir, orange, and eukamint again drowned his senses and he felt the arms around him tighten, "I never thought I would see you again."

"I'm right here," Obi-Wan attentively rubbed consoling circles against his friend's prominent shoulder blade. He felt the emaciated man melt against him and his voice poured like hot syrup, "Come back inside."

"Having me here will only bring you misery."

He tilted his head back with a challenging gaze, "I'm accustomed to your variety of misery."

Anakin rotated his head to the side, "I'm serious. I'm not the same person I once was."

Obi-Wan traced the tips of his middle and index fingers down the sun-blushed jawline turned towards him, "We all change, Anakin."

A covert shiver stemmed from the gentle touch, "Sometimes for the worse."

"Or perhaps-" he grasped his friend's tiny waist, resulting in a measurable recoil. When the Tatooinian stepped back and looked down abashedly, he worriedly questioned, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"You jumped when I touched you. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Anakin denied but unexpectedly began pacing without direction as he did earlier in the house.

"You know you can tell me what's wrong."

 _Go ahead, tell him the truth. Tell him you don't want him touching your ghastly, grotesque figure. Maybe he'll surprise you and tell you he adores half-machine skeletons._

"What do you want me to fucking _say_?" he seethed as his fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt. "Do you want me to tell you you hurt me when you _didn't_?"

"I…I didn't say anything like that?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed bewilderedly. "I simply asked if I hurt you. You've never-"

His voice rose exponentially, "What happened to _we all change_? Can I not determine I don't like you kriffing _touching_ me anymore?"

"That would be fine except it perceptibly bothers you that-"

"No, it doesn't _bother_ me! I am _not_ bothered!" he irately contended with emphatic hand motions. His maniacal pace intensified and his eyes remained trained on the cool sand at his feet, "I just don't like you _touching_ me!"

"Fine, you don't like me _touching_ you," the Jedi impatiently conceded, using all his willpower not to roll his eyes. Even if he took this explication at its face, which he didn't, more questions needed answering. "Why did you jump when I touched you instead of just telling me not to do it? Do I frighten you?"

The concession made seemed to bring the argument down a notch. When Anakin responded, he was no longer yelling, "I didn't jump because I was frightened, I jumped because I didn't expect you to touch me. _T_ _hat's it_."

Considering their earlier proximity, Obi-Wan was not convinced. Instead of arguing, he waited until the other Forceful paced close enough that he was able to reach out and clasp an arm. Again, Anakin skidded back. He calmly lifted up a hand, "You did it again."

" _Stop touching me._ "

He disregarded the warning and jetted a hand out to seize a thin wrist, firmly holding it. His other hand cupped around the back of Anakin's neck and his impassioned eyes drilled into anxious ones, "You do not have to hide from me. I understand if you don't want me to touch you as often as I used to, but I don't want you to cover your body because you think I can't stand the sight of it. You know me better than that. Or at least you _should_." He prompted, "Tell me you hear me."

Anakin eventually bashfully looked up, "I hear you."

He lingered close for a few moments in hopes his friend would open up like the night before, but when it was clear there would be no further discussion, his hands dropped to his side, "Let's head back to the house." His arms crossed as he walked past his new housemate, "This is only our first night together and you're already dragging me away from my tea."

He didn't mention he hadn't drank sapir tea in five years.

"I'll try not to make a habit out of it."

"That would be appreciated."

Once they got back to the house, Anakin didn't stop at the couch to resume their tea party. He passed on through the sitting room and quietly stated, "I'm going to bed."

"That's fine," Obi-Wan tried to strip the disappointment from his voice. "Call for me if you need anything."

"I will. Goodnight, Obi-Wan."

"Goodnight, Anakin."


	6. A Meditation A Day

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: I totally stole the fan theory that Sidious killed Padmé and incorporated it into this fanfic. I wanted to make it clear that RetroZap came up with that idea (I'm pretty sure), not me.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Six (Part A): A Meditation A Day

Obi-Wan still wasn't altogether sure what happened that first night. Anakin went from zero to hyperspeed in less than a millisecond without explanation. Between the incidents in the fresher, the bedroom, on the couch, and in the Sea, it was clear the unexpected shift came down to insecurity, self-doubt, and self-deprecation. His ferocious, bizarre rant did little more than convince Obi-Wan that fragments of darkness were still embedded inside him, contorting his emotions and thoughts. It also convinced the Jedi Master the choice countermeasure was meditation. If he could initiate a Force bond with Anakin, he knew it would help mollify these cyclonic emotions. The challenge was persuading Anakin to comply. _He despises meditating, but he particularly despises meditating with me._

Aside from meditation, he decided he said the wrong thing in response to Anakin's tirade. It was too aggressive. Even worse, _much, much_ worse, he'd gotten annoyed. There was absolutely _zero_ room for that. His best friend was not well. If he could not give Anakin the best love and care possible, he needed to step aside and find someone else that could. A heavy ache drummed in his chest. _No one in creation loves and cares for him like I do._ He took a deep, unsteady breath. _I will do better._ His rumination was interrupted when his housemate stumbled across the sitting room like a crippled drunkard. He swiftly exited the kitchen and hustled to the staggering man's side to act as a crutch, "Are you alright?"

"Need to sit down," Anakin groaned through hitching breaths.

Obi-Wan slowly conducted them to the couch and considerately lowered his twitchy-eyed friend to the cushions. Anakin sluggishly reclined against the back of the couch as the Jedi kneeled on the floor next to his right leg, "Tell me what you need."

That's when sunlight struck an odd sheen on the front of the short-of-breath man's tunic. Obi-Wan had to inspect it closely for a minute before he realized what it was. _Blood_. The concept of permission didn't even cross his unnerved mind when he grasped the hem of the shirt and cautiously pulled it up. Downreaching, bloody gashes marred Anakin's stomach and ribs. _Exactly like the ones from before._ He speedily sat on the couch and went to work healing the two imbrued wounds, covertly snooping around for any additional damage while the gory marks sewed themselves shut. The stillness and silence engulfing them unsettled him, but he waited until the familiar blue-white glows came and went before embarking on any inquests. Once the wounds were sealed closed, he fearfully pinched the younger man's chin to draw their eyes together, "Did you just do that to yourself?"

"No."

" _Anakin_ ," Obi-Wan's teeth nearly chattered, " _do not lie to me_."

The Tatooinian sounded insulted, "I'm _not_ lying."

"You _can't_ expect me to believe that."

"Believe what you want," Anakin heatedly yanked his chin out of the grip.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, took a breath, and tried to level, "How'd it happen then?"

"Why ask that, Obi-Wan?" the Forceful waspishly scoffed. "I'm only going to fripping lie to you."

"That's not what I meant. I don't think you're a liar," his fingers thread through his hair in exasperation.

"That's what you called me."

"No-"

"Yes, it is."

The sneering tone tunneled under Obi-Wan's skin and through every capillary in his body. He turned to draw one of his legs onto the couch, "You come out of your bedroom with bloody wounds on your torso. I know I didn't do it and I know nobody else has been in the house. What am I _supposed_ to believe?"

Anakin irritably pointed at his own chest, "You're supposed to _believe me_ when I tell you I didn't cause them."

" _What did_?"

His legs lifted onto the couch and he turned away from his inquisitive housemate, "What does it matter? You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Obi-Wan bit back his rude retort. Thankfully he realized he again let himself get flustered before he got carried away. _What is wrong with me?_ Anakin had always been a hellion and he was always armed with ample amount of patience when it came to their relationship. Why was he becoming so antagonistic? _Because I'm worried to the bone about him._ His hands slid down his face and stopped over his mouth. He just wanted Anakin to be _better_. The only reason he was being so abrasive was because he knew he couldn't simply _fix_ _this_. He couldn't give some thought-provoking advice or apply handfuls of bacta or employ his lightsaber and _fix this_. He was frustrated with his own impotence and he was taking it out on Anakin. _It has to stop._

Any and all frustration was extinguished when he realized his out-of-character behavior boiled down to one truth: _I love him and I want to take care of him._ If their relationship still resembled what it once was even a little bit, he knew how to de-escalate this situation.

"This conversation is giving me déjà vu from when you were a teenager."

When shoulders began to shake, he thought his comment made Anakin cry. Immense relief washed over him when he discerned little snickers. Anakin didn't turn towards him, but he could picture that ravishing, brilliant smile, "If I look over there, are you going to have the thousand-yard stare?"

He leaned over to settle his chin on an emaciated shoulder, "You still can't let things go is all."

"What, like people calling me a liar?"

"See?" He smiled and gripped Anakin's elbow. "I'm _worried_ about you, alright? I'm trying to make sure I'm taking care of you and not missing anything."

"You're not missing anything." He released the knobby elbow in his grasp and lifted his head. However, a cybernetic hand quickly curled around his wrist, "Sit with me for a while."

The mechno-hand tugged him closer, bringing his chest considerably close to Anakin's back. He again settled his chin on the brunette's shoulder and twisted his legs into a more comfortable position. The hems of his sleeves ended up in wads in mismatched hands and their conversation ended up straying quite far from the previous one.

"You couldn't have possibly been staying in Theed."

"Lake Country. I found an abandoned hut."

"What made you go to the Lake Country to begin with?" During the prolonged silence that ensued, it occurred to Obi-Wan that Senator Amidala was from Naboo. _Lake Country must have held special meaning._ It was best to head down a new line of questioning, "How did you get there?"

"You'll _love_ this story," Anakin facetiously proclaimed. "I was on a subjugator-class heavy cruiser and I stole a prototype for an Imperial starship."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "Only you."

The tale proceeded on a measurably quieter note, "Sidious dragged me off that black sand bank and put me on the battleship in the medical bay. Droids stabilized me, cleaned out my lungs with hypermotile cilia, attached the modules, the synth-net neural interface, the alloy ligaments…" He leaned the side of his head against Obi-Wan's, "Of course, I found the armored shielding I wanted later."

"I would have been shocked and appalled if you didn't."

He paused to smile at the comment. He missed being able to talk with Obi-Wan more than anything. Beginning only a few months after he arrived on Coruscant, they'd always been able to have hours-long conversations and debates. They could converse about anything from cybernetics to politics to logical atomism to _what is nothing_ and keep each other entertained. How did their lives get so far away from that? Existence was now nothing but a constant orbit of turmoil and agony. _I guess now my miserable existence is a theme in our discourse._

His smile slowly dwindled as he recalled the detestable topic at hand, "Sidious told me while I was still rehabilitating that I killed Padmé. I tried to choke him. He'd told me he would help save her. That was the whole Force-damn point." The hands in his rotated and grabbed ahold of his fingers. "When he told me she was gone, I wanted to... _annihilate_ him, but I was too blinking weak. As soon as I could move I stole that starship and headed for Naboo."

His head leaned back against Obi-Wan's shoulder, "I killed everyone onboard and took it. I still wasn't completely myself." A dejected laugh escaped his lips, "Or maybe I was. I don't know who I am anymore."

He paused to take calming breaths, but the only breaths that helped calm him were the heated ones fanning over his neck and ear. He closed his eyes and focused on Obi-Wan's breath puffing against his skin, "I couldn't locate Sidious before I left. I was in a preternatural state where I wanted to set the solar system ablaze, but at the same time, I wanted to break down. Not do anything else. Just sit and cry. I felt like sunspots were all over my brain and I couldn't decide who I was or where I should be or what I wanted. All I knew was I had done terrible things."

Tears prickled behind his eyes, "I didn't know what reconditioned me. I didn't know why I wasn't still barreling down the dark path. I know now." He tilted his mouth towards his friend's ear, "Sidious killed Padmé. He used the dark side of the Force to slowly transfer her Living Force to mine and keep me alive after our battle. That's why she slipped away without reason. Her life was given to me."

Obi-Wan craned his neck back so he could turn his head and look Anakin in the eye, "How can you be certain of that?"

"The medical droids worked on me for _two_ rotations, Obi-Wan. I was still overcome for two rotations after Mustafar. I felt Padmé's Living Force during that time." Tears drizzled from flashing sapphires, "Sidious told me she was dead and I stopped feeling her once they were done operating on me after those two rotations. Everything you told me in the corvette... There's no doubt.

"I had a hard time recalling exactly what happened. I couldn't remember how viciously I'd attacked her, if what I'd… All this time I wasn't sure if I was the one that killed her like Sidious said or if I imagined feeling her energy. When the darkness left me, it left a black haze on my memory and I wasn't completely sure what was real and what wasn't. Over time the haze started to dissipate, but there were still certain things I couldn't recall. I could recall what happened between us, I could recall I helped kill Windu, but I still couldn't recall if I killed Padmé."

Wet eyes turned towards the ceiling, "Sidious left that battleship thinking he cemented his hold on me. In reality, Padmé's Living Force cured me. I was disoriented and I wasn't thinking clearly, I did whatever I needed to to get away and not be found until I could get my head on straight, but I was cured of the dark side. Her light drove the darkness out of me." Anakin wiped his cheek, "Palpatine didn't know all of her Living Force would save me. He couldn't have known or he never would have done what he did." His free hand waved emphatically, "She died for me. My children should be _in their mother's arms_ and _I should be dead_."

Obi-Wan tightened his hold when the brokenhearted sobs started. He straightened his back and pulled the Tatooinian closer against his chest. His forehead rested against the back of wild curls and he merely allowed Anakin to mourn Padmé. It was highly unlikely there'd ever been a proper mourning period and if it was something Anakin needed, it was something Obi-Wan would ensure he received. The heart-wrenching sobs dragged on for some time but gradually slowed to only stray tears and sniffles.

The Stewjonian nuzzled butterscotch brown locks, "For what it's worth, I thank the Force every rotation you're not dead." There was a negligible squeeze to his arm. "You said it yourself: Darth Sidious did this. You had no say in the matter."

"If I hadn't fallen to the dark side to begin with, it never would have happened."

His hand settled at the base of the back of Anakin's neck, "Senator Amidala loved you. She wouldn't want you to spend your life mourning things that could have been."

Anakin rotated his head to regard Obi-Wan through his peripheral vision, "She wouldn't still love me after all the terrible shit I did."

 _I do._ "Yes, she would."

"Now _you're_ lying."

Obi-Wan threw his hand up in the air and snorted, " _See_?"

::::

He decided he wasn't going to do it, no matter what Obi-Wan said to him. It was a strain, a burden, and a harrowing trip down memory lane. Whenever he tried to meditate during his residence in the Lake Country, it customarily ended in busted skin and furniture. The instance he entered a meditative state, that loathsome voice corkscrewed between his ears. The indictments and invectives cannibalized his heart, eating out each ventricle until he was blind with odium, ready to butcher and eradicate. Meditation was torture.

Still, it was forced in his face _every hour_.

If meditation ever needed an advertiser, Obi-Wan would have been its first pick. He constantly hounded Anakin to meditate, repeatedly explaining how soothing and enlightening the practice was _as if Anakin had never meditated before_. The younger Force-user offered a polite _no_ when the hounding first started. The more unrelenting it became, the more acerbic his reactions became. Even worse, he was never allowed to simply decline and go about his day. He must explain _why, why, why_.

Revealing the existence of an unsourced voice growling in his ears was out of the question. _That would be it._ Obi-Wan's Jedi learnedness would be triggered the second he exposed something dark still lingering inside him. He had no misgivings about it. If his old master came at him for any reason, he would kneel down and wait for the deathblow. _There are more dishonorable deaths than ones dealt by Obi-Wan Kenobi_. He would never again be able to knock his dearest friend about, not while he had a single whit of control left.

It was more preferable to keep his ailment under wraps. A lack of knowledge meant a lack of confrontation. There was only one problem: this secret affected how he interacted with Obi-Wan. His unrequited love, his marriage- these were not secrets that could harm Obi-Wan. The dark side leaving a footprint inside of him? That could end up hurting Obi-Wan and he didn't like keeping it under wraps. He was already nervous about this terrible secret and it didn't help his anxiety to know how extraordinarily perceptive his old master was. His attempts at acting like a voice hadn't taken up residence in his head often resulted in the opposite effect. If it didn't seem like he was a nerve burner after that first night, his behavior since most likely made good arguments.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan called out authoritatively, "why are you creeping down the hallway like that?"

Anakin jumped in surprise then vehemently denied, "I'm not! There was _no_ amount of creeping going on here! I was _walking_!"

"With your back pressed against the wall?"

 _You were certainly creeping._

That malignant voice chattered on the entire time Obi-Wan had been cooking dinner. After half an hour, he got frustrated and restless and tried to get from the kitchen to his room without drawing any attention. The mission was incontestably a failure. The ludicrous excuse that sprung to mind was sure to make him seem even more shady, but he gave it no less, "I was trying to provoke a surge of nitrogen into my facet joints."

Obi-Wan never looked so unconvinced in his life. Even still, he only crossed his arms and announced, "Dinner is ready."

Anakin slapped a hand over his face after his suspicious friend turned back into the sitting room. _A few more months with this behavior and pathetic little Anakin will be left all by his lonesome._ He gritted his teeth and elected not to respond to the contentious voice as he trudged to his room. It was a known fact Obi-Wan didn't like drama. The galaxy heaps enough on you without having to deal with frivolous drama, he once said. Anakin had always given his best friend big bang headaches with his excessive crises and he knew they'd only doubled in number and intensity in the last five years. Unless the Jedi's tolerance managed to grow (unlikely), it wouldn't take much time for his behavior to drive his former master away. The practical solution was to change his behavior. There must be a way to exorcise this demon and silence this voice in his head. There was decidedly nothing he wouldn't suffer to stay with Obi-Wan.

Anakin was so lost in contemplation he didn't see or hear the object of his thoughts step cross-armed into his doorway. Obi-Wan curiously observed Anakin standing stalk still near the corner of the bedroom, fixedly holding his hands over his temples with his elbows jutting away from his body. The curious observer remained silent as he tried to figure out what mood Anakin was in. The questionable behavior in the hallway indicated nervousness and now the nervousness seemed to have mixed with dolor or pain. He was unable to withstand the anguish adorning Anakin's face another second, "Are you not hungry?"

The surprised man gave a slight start and his hands fell from his face, "What?" The question registered without it having to be repeated and he shook his head, "Oh, um, no, I'm not hungry, sorry. I'll get something later."

"You keep saying that." Obi-Wan marched into the room and intentionally cornered Anakin to prevent any pacing, "For the last month, you keep saying you aren't hungry and you'll get something later, but you never do."

The bony brunette's eyelids beat hastily and his nostrils flared, "I'm not going to eat when I'm not hungry."

The Jedi Master slowly closed the remaining distance between them. Their eyes locked and he cautiously stretched one of his hands forward so the movement could clearly be seen. His hand came to rest on Anakin's concave stomach, "You're underweight and malnourished. You need to start eating regularly."

Anakin closed his shining eyes and took a step back to detach the touch from his stomach, "It frightens you."

"Yes, it frightens me that you don't eat," Obi-Wan softly conceded.

"No." His voice cascaded out in broken torrents, " _No_ , I mean _me_. _I_ frighten you, don't I? How I…how I look like a skeleton."

"I _did not_ say that, Anakin," the older man firmly stated and gingerly gripped black-clothed shoulders. "I only want you to be healthy."

 _You disgust him_. No, Obi-Wan cares about me. _He doesn't care about you. You're not a Jedi, you're not a man, you're not a redeemable soul. You're a virulent skeleton that must be kept in his place._ He didn't say that. He didn't say I'm a skeleton. Stop putting words in his mouth. _Just because he didn't say it doesn't mean that isn't precisely what he thinks._ You don't know what he thinks. _We both do and even if we didn't, it's quite clear how deformed and sickening you look. I'd be worried his keen observational aptitudes had been lost if he didn't notice that._ Leave me alone. _Never, my sweet._

He could hardly see the profound worry in Obi-Wan's eyes through his plump tears, but he felt the grip on his shoulders contract, "Want to come to the kitchen and get some dinner?"

"No."

First and foremost, he wasn't hungry. He didn't want to deal with the awkward situation of sitting at the kitchen table while Obi-Wan stared at him, waiting for him to eat food he wasn't going to eat. Secondly, if suffering the incessant blathering of that voice for the last forty-five minutes hadn't convinced him he needed to get a plan, those disappointed emerald eyes certainly had. The disappointment was eliminated when he entreated, "I want you to meditate with me."

There was no hesitation in Obi-Wan's smile or answer, "Then let's meditate."

He turned with the intent to go to the sitting room so they could sit on the couch and meditate together, but fingers hooked around his and turned him back towards the corner of the bedroom. The light touch on his fingers was gone by the time he turned and found Anakin lowering cross-legged to the floor. The smile he was given was the only convincing he needed. He sat parallel on the floor and mimicked his housemate's position, but his location was not approved of. Anakin forthrightly ordered, "I need you closer."

He felt thrills go down his back at the demand. Without a word, he scooted closer to the younger Forceful until their knees were almost touching. He figured he was close enough when sky-blue eyes closed. His eyes closed as well and his breathing evened out by the time his concentration zeroed in on Anakin and the Force. The words flowed like a solar wind, "The Force is around us. It is between us. Feel it in the sunlight. Feel it in the earth. Know it as it enters your lungs and sings in your veins. It lives without and it lives within.…"

As the meditation pressed on, Anakin felt feverish. Heat rambled through every nerve ending in his body. Head light and muscles numb. It'd been five long years since he felt comprehensive connection to the Force and it'd been even longer, around nine years, since he felt connection to Obi-Wan's cosmic energy. He hadn't expected the Jedi to open a bond with him- if he had, he would have asked for a joint meditation sooner- but when he felt both the Force and Obi-Wan's energy pulsing through his body and his own energy, he never wanted it to end. It felt like Obi-Wan was pouring over his molars and squeezing his heart and plaiting his stomach while the Force consummately unburdened his mind so he could savor the experience. This wasn't torture, _this was salvation_. Then again, touching Obi-Wan's Living Force always had been.

He was so enraptured in meditation, he wasn't even cognizant of the enthralled moan that fell from his lips. Obi-Wan instinctively halted his meditative recitations. He consciously fought to keep his eyes closed and not gawk. It took little effort to guess the reason for the electrifying sound. It was unlikely the fallen Jedi had meditated in the last few years considering his disuse of the Force. The first extensive contact in years must feel particularly nice. Obi-Wan only managed intermittent contact through failed meditation and other random usage in the past five years, so he could relate. No matter the reason for that moan though, he was forced to fight to bring his blood pressure back down after hearing it. With a bit of discipline, he was able to refocus and level out his breathing again.

He restarted his recitations and time became a matter of indifference. He thoroughly concentrated on opening the portals of his Living Force to interweave them with Anakin's. Not only for his comrade's benefit but for his own as well. Both of them felt so isolated and forsaken, Anakin needed to know he was there and he needed to know Anakin was there. As the meditation meandered on and tendrils of their energies whorled together, his head and extremities grew weightless and his back became spineless. He'd not been sure at first if his old padawan wanted to connect as wholly as they did nine years prior, but clearly the answer was _even more than that_. Personally, he was overwhelmingly thrilled about it. The only thing that kept him a part of reality was the recitations he had to maintain focus on.

The only reason they stopped meditating was pure exhaustion. Connecting their Living Forces so assiduously was draining. Anakin was the first to bow out. His energy ebbed from their accord and his body lurched forward. His mismatched hands barely caught himself from falling as they outspread over the floor in front of him and his breathing grew slightly labored. The strain on his body didn't stop a giddy smile from stretching over his lips.

Soon enough, Obi-Wan was blinking out of his meditative state. His posture relaxed and his hands moved from his knees to clasp together. The grin he found on Anakin's face put one on his own, "Feel better?"

" _Fuck_ , we should meditate together _every night_ ," Anakin blurted out. He felt his cheeks heat up, "I mean…if that's okay with you. We don't-"

Obi-Wan patted his friend's outspread mechno-hand, managing to hold back his laugh when he professed, "A meditation a day keeps the dark side away."

Anakin's catlike eyes tapered as he bemusedly watched the Jedi stand, "You have serious mental derangements."

"Oh, that was a _joke_. You know I don't say that," the blonde laughed and offered his hand out.

The laugh was returned and the hand was taken, "What do I know?" Using the assistance to stand, the mirthful man claimed, "You could have picked up any number of strange habits while we were apart."

Obi-Wan took strides forward with the intent to leave the statement hanging. Unfortunately, there was a nagging voice that said _You want him to be honest and open with you, but you aren't honest and open with him._ Anakin opened up about the Force. Maybe if he opened up about this, they could build on that confidence. He abruptly turned around, "Drinking."

"What?"

"A habit I picked up while we were apart. One was drinking."

Anakin knew by the mention of it at all that _drinking_ meant _heavy daily drinking_. The two of them used to toss a few back every now and then, so there was no way he was being told _I never drank before and now I have one or two occasionally_. If Obi-Wan became a lush while they were apart, there was only one conclusion he could come to, "Am I the reason?"

The smile was sincere, "As it turns out, you're the reason for the majority of things that happen in my life."

"Bad things," he muttered as his fingers curled into fists.

"I didn't say that," Obi-Wan turned back towards the door.

He bore holes in the back of his friend's head, "Are you still drinking?"

"Not since you've been back."

::::

 _You took advantage of him._

Shut up, demon, I only meditated with him.

 _You siphoned off his energy like you did nine years ago. You took it from him. You robbed him. Raped him._

No, he willingly shared his energy with me. Your lies have no power here.

 _How much more will you steal from Obi-Wan? His charity, his sanity, his life?_

Stop talking, you fedding deceiver.

 _Do you really think Obi-Wan has forgotten your sins? Do you truly suppose his motives are altruistic? He knows the monster you are._

Yet he's still in this house with me.

 _Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, as they say._

I am not his enemy. He knows that.

 _I believe the textbook definition of an enemy to a Jedi Master is one that kills younglings, kills females, helps exterminate the Jedi, and plunges the galaxy into darkness._

He…he-

 _There's no coming back from that, Anakin. You can't honestly believe he has forgiven you these crimes. You're a vicious animal to him and if he didn't still abide by the Code, he'd put you down like one. Make no mistake: the second you slip up, you'll be staring down the neck of a lightsaber._

Then that will be my fate.

 _If he attacked you, you know what would happen._

It wouldn't. I won't allow it.

 _You're not that strong. When, not if, but when, you slip up, one of you will fall on the sword._

I will kill myself before I let harm come to him.

 _The abyss waits for you, Anakin. It wants your beloved, it wants your children, and it wants your soul._

A growl steamed from behind his lips. For the entire rotation, the voice accused him of exploiting Obi-Wan. The last twenty-four hours had been nothing less than mental combat, but for the first time, his children were brought into the fray. He did his best to keep the internal war quiet, but he didn't want to keep quiet anymore. He didn't want to pretend he wasn't being torn apart inside. He didn't want to pretend his soul wasn't _burning_. The plastene mug in his hand sailed across the air and smashed against the flextile, spilling coffee across the floor.

The resounding clatter attracted Obi-Wan, who flew through the bedroom's open doorway, "What happened?"

Tears rambled down Anakin's face and his hands waved up and down in small strokes, "Why are you _here_?"

An indicative hand pointed towards the broken mug, "I heard the crash and-"

"No," the overwrought man almost screamed, clasping his shirt and repeatedly tugging it for emphasis, " _why are you here_? Why are you wasting your time, your energy on this, on _me_? Why don't you _kill_ me like I _deserve_?"

Obi-Wan raised upturned palms in an offering of peace as he took slow steps forward, "What's happened, Anakin? Why are you talking like this?"

Seeing his friend trying to reason with him only made Anakin more upset. Now, he did scream, "I'm a _murderer_! I personally slaughtered dozens of people, _younglings and females_! I'm responsible for the slaughter of _thousands_ more! What are you _doing here with me_? Why haven't you _fucking killed me_?"

The rise in his voice caused the Jedi to stand still, "I know you're still haunted by everything that happened, but it is in the past. We can't change it, we can't take it back, so our only option is to learn from it. The fact you're _this_ upset _just thinking_ about what happened indicates to me you know it was all a _horrible_ mistake."

"Understatement of the millennium," he mumbled and burrowed his head in his hands.

"I told you we all change and I meant it." A battle-worn hand motioned between them, "We have the capacity to grow into better people."

His head shook as that torturous voice chuckled in his ears. His hand vised over his eyes, "I'm not better. I'm not…" He let his hand drop and clutch onto the nearby footboard. He found malachite eyes through tear-teemed lashes, "If it happens again, _promise me_ you won't stop like you did on Mustafar. Don't let me go after Luke or find Leia, don't let me hurt you, _please_ …"

Obi-Wan felt like someone was gripping his throat. All caution was thrown to the chromosphere when he closed the distance between them. One hand clasped Anakin's shoulder and the other melded against the side of his neck, "I won't make that promise."

The tears spilled over, "I don't want to hurt you."

The Stewjonian swept away those heartbreaking teardrops, "Nor I you." He didn't know what brought all this on, but he recalled the little moan Anakin let out during meditation the rotation before. If he could bring the traumatized man to that point of joy again, it should alleviate all fear, distress, and unease. His thumb swiped over Anakin's wet cheek, "Meditate with me."

 _You're going to take more of his energy, aren't you?_ He requested I meditate with him. He wants to share his Living Force with me. _We both know you're only doing this because his Living Force is the only part of him that will ever be inside you._ Fuck you, get out of my head. Obi-Wan wants to be close to me. He wants to help me. He cares about me. _He only cares you don't become a threat like you were five years ago._ You don't-

"Anakin?"

The disgraced Jedi blinked in rapid succession, brought out of the back and forth in his mind. Jade orbs became his focus and he did his best to smile and act as though he'd been mulling over the offer for meditation, "You're addicted."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan granted with a half-smile. "Let's go sit on the couch. We can clean up the coffee later."


	7. I Must Go Back

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Warnings: Sexual language.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Six (Part B): I Must Go Back

The first one was seemingly innocuous, but after the fourth one, Anakin realized his friend was sleuthing. Over the next couple rotations after the Coffee Controversy, Obi-Wan kept asking rather strange questions. First, he asked _was the hut you kept located near civvies_. At the time when it was asked, he thought Obi-Wan was making conversation. After the queries _did you hike about the Lake Country any_ , _did you make any acquaintances there_ , and _were you bothered at any point_ , he realized something was a little offbeat. The inquiries obviously shared a common theme and for whatever reason, the crafty negotiator was trying to extract information without asking direct questions. The fact that the inquiries were spanned out over two rotations instead of being asked during an outright interrogation indicated the subject matter was sensitive. Only with the fifth and sixth questions did the situation become clear.

Anakin was still reacquainting himself with the Force. Meditating for extensive periods wore him down, but in spite of that, bar their very first meditation, he would never retreat from their bonds. He was much too enthralled to touch Obi-Wan's Living Force to ever let something as trivial as exhaustion make him retreat. Luckily, Obi-Wan was highly perceptive and noticed when Anakin's energy rushed through his less vigorously than usual. Such was the case currently, as they'd been meditating for the better part of two hours. Feeling the flow of Anakin's energy beginning to slacken, Obi-Wan reigned in his Living Force little by little until their bond was disconnected.

He didn't expect to find half-hooded cerulean eyes rolling back as he woke from his meditative state.

He lunged forward to catch Anakin from falling back. He tilted the inert Forceful against his chest and wedged his other arm under petite thighs to haul his housemate into his arms. As he rose, he was mortified by how light Anakin was. _By the holy stars, why did you do this to yourself?_ He blinked back the tears he felt well up in his eyes and strode to the bed in the extra bedroom. He delicately laid Anakin down and draped the coverlet over the weary man's frame. Long lashes began to flutter and boneless fingers gripped his arm. A low, slurred apology tumbled out, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he stroked back honey curls.

"Still not used…"

"I know," he gently cooed. As he gazed down upon hollow cheeks and recalled how light his beloved had been in his arms, he decided he wouldn't, _couldn't,_ put this off any longer. _Besides, with his current state, the chances of being verbally or physically assaulted are virtually nonexistent._ He settled a hand over the cybernetic one attached to his forearm, "What made you stop eating?"

"What's it matter?"

"It matters," his fingers tightened over mechanical ones.

"Couldn't afford food."

"You know how to fish. Master Yiemer taught you. There are plenty of fish in the Lake Country," he dismantled the excuse, not buying it for a moment.

"Let it go."

He stood up and anxiously smoothed his hands over his face and hair, "No, I'm sorry, Anakin, but I can't let it go. I need you to tell me _why_. Did something happen that made you stop eating and become upset when I touch you and cause you to hide your body and ask me for your clothes in the refresher?"

"What do _you_ think happened? Why won't you just say it? These inquiries you've been asking the last two rotations evidently aren't delivering the information you desire." Obi-Wan stood in silence with his hand over his mouth and his gaze to the side. Anakin spoke with more volume and clearness, "Obi-Wan?" When their eyes met, he held his hand palm-up and repeatedly curled his fingers inward, "Come here."

The Stewjonian disregarded the order, so he tried to push himself into a sitting position. Obi-Wan leapt forth to assist and clutched onto his shoulders. He exhaustedly grappled for the blonde's wrist and forearm in hopes of dispelling at least one concern, "I was having a freak out that first night. I have no problem with you touching me. Have you forgotten when we sat together on the couch? There's no problem with you touching me. Forget what I said, okay? I wasn't myself."

"It's not just that. When I healed your wounds that first night, I…you-"

His head shook lethargically, but he swiftly interrupted, "Okay, I had _two_ freak outs that first night. You didn't do anything to upset me."

Light eyebrows furrowed in trepidation, "When I tried to unfasten your pants-"

It was all he needed to hear to understand. He was fully awake now and pulled the older man closer, "No, _no_ , Obi-Wan, that…" He twisted around, "You think somebody-"

"Hurt you," the Jedi whispered.

" _No, no, no_ , Obi-Wan," Anakin shook his head and clutched his friend's bicep. "I was not…it wasn't easy being around another person again. I've been alone for such a long time. I was having a freak out."

Obi-Wan's free hand settled against the edge of the bed and he stared straight into cobalt eyes, "Why do I have the feeling you're lying to me?"

While Anakin was hiding the truth about the voice, he certainly wasn't lying about being violated and stressed such, " _Not a single living creature_ has touched me without my permission since the creepy cunt you went on to humiliate in front of all those Senators. I promise, Obi-Wan. I _promise_." Their eye contact subsisted for a couple moments before he was tackled with an embrace. His hands unsurely settled on the his housemate's back, "Obi-Wan?"

"Thank the Force."

Anakin's fingers curled into the man's overtunic, "Why did you wait so long to ask me about this?"

"I didn't want to push you or upset you," Obi-Wan pulled back from the embrace.

"And tonight?"

He pushed away from the bed to stand upright and nervously comb his hand through his hair, "You were so light in my arms when I carried you in here. I couldn't stop thinking you won't eat because of shame or self-punishment or...any number of victim ratiocinations."

"No, I went so long eating so little, it hurts to eat too much in one sitting now. I'm trying."

"I just don't understand why you stopped eating in the first place."

Anakin's hands leaned against the bed and his head angled downwards, "Most of my time was spent in mental, cosmic, and spiritual combat. The last thing on my mind was eating. My body was destroying itself-"

"What?"

"Those wounds?" When he received a nod of comprehension, he elucidated, "They weren't…nobody inflicted them on me. I didn't inflict them on myself either. It's…peculiar." He paused in fear what he had to say may not be believed, "I would go to sleep at night and I'd have terrors and I'd wake up in this amaranthine pain. I'd feel like I was about to bust out of my skin. Then it was like the cork of a champagne bottle. The pressure would release and my skin and muscle would break open, tearing down to the bone. The mattress, the floors, the whole damn hut was saturated in blood by the time I left. If anybody finds that place, I can only imagine what they'll think went on there."

His hand closed over his forehead, "I was fighting going back to the dark side, my body was tearing itself apart, I was suffering unfathomable guilt from what I'd done, unfathomable grief from losing Padmé and my child, from losing you. Eating wasn't something I was concerned about."

Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. What could he say? There was nothing that would take away the suffering Anakin had endured. It drove him up the wall that he hadn't been there to help. To heal the wounds, to guide meditation, _to talk_. He hadn't been there when Anakin needed him most. In the end, he could only choke out, "I see."

"I'm trying, Obi-Wan."

He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, "I know you are. I get worried is all. Overbearingly so, I know."

"I'm not afraid of you touching me. I'm not afraid of you at all. It's...sometimes I need space and when I want it, I can chew the luna-weed."

He grinned, "You've always been like that."

The smile was tiredly returned, "I might be a bit more severe than I used to be about it."

"A little."

Anakin laid back down, the side of his face sinking in the pillow, "I asked you for my clothes in the fresher because I didn't want to deal with explaining my scars at the time. Which you saw them anyway."

The older Forceful embarrassedly muttered, "I really misinterpreted what was going on."

"Anakin, one-thousand, nine-hundred and seventy-four; Obi-Wan, two. Thanks for giving a damn."

His expression became confused and disconcerted, "Of course I _give a damn_. You should _know_ I give a damn."

Although Anakin was happy to hear those words, he wasn't sure he could properly filter himself in responding to them in his exhausted state. His eyes tiredly drooped and he diverted, "I didn't intentionally try to make you think that."

Seeing the evident exhaustion, Obi-Wan decided to take his leave. He took a step to the side to turn around but stopped. His crossed arms tensed as he stared to the empty side of the barely lit room and his voice came out in low tides, "I would have wasted anyone had they violated you."

The response was slurred but confident, "I know, but nobody did, so don't dwell on it." He took another couple steps before he was propositioned, "Can you lay next to me for a minute?"

He traipsed back to the bed and climbed in, laying side by side so their shoulders touched. He figured proximity was all that was needed because within only a couple minutes of him laying down, the younger man's breathing evened out. He got out of the bed but lingered after his feet hit the floor. The night's events passed through his mind and he spun around. His hands pressed on the side of the bed and he hunched forward to survey the slumbering man before him, "I don't know what you're hiding, Anakin, but you're not telling me everything."

He stood and made his way out of the room.

Although he knew something was being hidden from him, he would rest a little easier with one horrific concern laid to rest. _Thank the Force my darling wasn't raped._

::::

Thumping noises awoke him. He laid unmoving at first and listened for other sounds, but there were none. With all the eccentric behavior demonstrated, from the time they reunited on Naboo all the way up until two and a half weeks ago, he was not content to go back to sleep without investigating the derivation of the noises he'd heard. He got out of bed and went to the sitting room, but it was dark and deserted. Everything seemed to be normal as he prowled around the house in search of any signs of disturbance.

Then he noticed the extra bedroom door wasn't latched. He stood outside the door for a moment to listen for any evidence that Anakin was awake. When there was only silence, he slid the door open to unveil another dark, deserted room. Discerning what he'd heard upon stirring must have been the front door opening and closing, he hurriedly made his way outside. He searched all around the house but couldn't find Anakin anywhere. There was no sign of the missing man around the bluff either. He switched direction when he suddenly recalled where they ended up during the breakdown the previous month.

Relief and dread crowded Obi-Wan's heart when he found the target of his manhunt strutting around the Dune Sea, kicking up sand with each step. He approached guardedly and unobtrusively called out his friend's name. The towering Forceful turned and stared through the pitch-black night with scarlet-rimmed gilt eyes. _No, please, no._ He took a few hasty breaths to try to calm his heartsick wits. It was no use. The hysteria in his voice was palpable, "Anakin, _talk to me, talk to me_ , tell me what's going on."

A deep rasp chewed at Anakin's vocal chords, "I do not belong here."

"Yes, you do," he desperately implored and took a couple steps towards the bewitched brunette. "You belong here, _with me_."

Anakin's ear upturned towards the sky as though he could hear something no one else could and an invidious snarl curled over his lips, "The galaxy, she importunes me. We are nil but caliginosity, only caliginosity."

"No, Anakin," the Jedi Master pointed forward emphatically, " _you_ are light." Then he pointed at himself, " _I_ am light. We need not seek the darkness."

"The caliginosity seeks us," Anakin hissed like a serpent. His radiant eyes closed and his mechno-hand motioned around circularly in the air, "He conceives I do not belong here. Not alike you, he will purge my weaknesses."

Obi-Wan took another couple steps forward so only a little over an arm's length of distance was between them, "You are not weak. You're the most potent man I've come across in this universe and the darkness resents you for it."

Anakin's eyes compressed more tightly and his mechno-hand pointed over his shoulder, "I must go _back_."

There wasn't a sliver of doubt about what the fallen Jedi meant for even a second. Obi-Wan closed the remaining distance between them and unreservedly clasped his hands over sun-dusted cheeks, " _No, no_ , Anakin! The only place you don't belong is in the darkness! Come back to me!" He caressed his fingertips across sharp cheekbones, "Come back to me."

The consumed Force-sensitive opened his eyes and roughly snatched ahold of Obi-Wan's wrists, impelling them away. In turn, Obi-Wan encompassed an arm around his petite waist and replanted a hand on his cheek. Emerald eyes penetrated golden ones as their foreheads slanted together, "Don't do this again. My heart won't be able to withstand it, Anakin. Come back to me." His eyes sealed shut and his brows creased as lips pressed against his cheek, "You belong with me."

His hand rose to his face, encasing one of his padlocked eyes, and his cheek snuggled closer to Obi-Wan's lips.

Perceiving an internal struggle, the Stewjonian did everything he could to bring his best friend back to him, "What has the darkness ever given you? All it does is take: it took your _lover_ , it tried to take your _children_ , it took your _mind_ , your _blood_ , it took your _friends_ , it took _me_." Without warning, tears and sobs absconded from the disgraced Jedi. He took this as a good sign, that he was getting through, so he persisted, "Come back to me. I don't want to take _anything_ from you, not unless you want to give it to me." His hand combed through honey curls, " _This_ is where you belong."

The hand over Anakin's face lowered. Speckles of blue slowly trickled through the yellow in his irises when something happened. A sharp stab bashed behind his eyes and he pressed his palms heavily against his temples. In the blink of an eye, a barrage of knifelike bolts clashed around his skull until he was blind and shrieking at the top of his lungs in pain. Obi-Wan tried to maintain their embrace, but he tore free of the hold. He stumbled around with his hands clamped over his temples and his body nearly doubled over. His eyes were weeping and alternating between gold and azure.

The older Forceful tried to get ahold of the delirious man again, "Try to focus on me, Anakin; let's try to meditate."

With this appeal, wild eyes washed auric.

Anakin violently shoved Obi-Wan away.

The voice that came out was all wrong. It sounded much deeper and less enunciated than Anakin's normal voice. Considering what it had to say, Obi-Wan was positive it wasn't his closest friend speaking at all.

"Anakin does not belong to _you_! He belongs to _me_! He is _my_ child of desolation! We will take the breath from this existence and suffocate everything within! That _includes you, Jedi_."

Thinking of another entity taking up space inside his beloved filled Obi-Wan with cataclysmic rage. His fists clenched, "Anakin belongs to _himself_ , not to you or to me! His place is at my side, but his body and soul are his own! _Leave him_!"

The imposter inside Anakin twisted his lips into a smirk, "If I did that, you and I would be so far away from one another, _my Obi-Wan_."

 _Padmé's Living Force cured me. Her light drove the darkness out of me._ Obi-Wan didn't hesitate and he didn't ask permission. With acute concentration, he found Anakin's energy and projected emissions of his Living Force directly into it. He knew it was a chancy thing to do. If he wasn't meticulously careful and he gave up too much of his Living Force, it would kill him. It was one thing to gently touch another's Living Force or fluently share minute, negligible portions as Anakin and he did during meditation. It was another thing to break off a chunk of your Living Force and slingshot it away. But if that's what Anakin needed from him, that's what he would do. He only afforded enough that he became lightheaded, hoping it would be enough to drive out the dark entity inside his friend.

It wasn't.

The ousting attempt only infuriated the entity that had possessed Anakin. It raised his hand and a gust of the Force blasted towards Obi-Wan. The Force-push landed, knocking the Jedi off balance, but his arms arched back to catch his hands on the ground and he easily flipped over onto his feet. Thankful he hadn't thought to bring his lightsaber and even more thankful he still hadn't returned his old padawan's yet, he stood from the ground.

The thing inside Anakin wasn't about to let the wordsmith try to reach its host again. It sent the brunette dashing through the sand to close the small distance between them and take a swing at Obi-Wan's face with a mechanical fist. He dodged the slug and sprang forward to tackle his friend around the midsection. They crashed heavily in the sand with him landing on top. He secured Anakin's right limb against the ground, clutching above the module of the man's cybernetic prosthetic, and restrained the other arm by the wrist.

The entity inside Anakin made him lick his bottom lip suggestively, "How many years have you fantasized about pinning me down, Obi-Wan?"

"Anakin, come back to me," Obi-Wan pled, ignoring the provocation. "You are stronger than the dark side; _fight_."

It made the Tatooinian up-thrust his hips against the Stewjonian's, "Did you always hope I'd scream and beg like a half-priced whore?"

The blonde lifted the limbs in his hold and slammed them back to the ground in unmitigated choler, " _You_ are _not_ Anakin Skywalker!"

It used Anakin's lips to smirk, "Guilty as charged." His face lifted upwards, "So, tell me, Kenobi, just between us- wouldn't you love to fuck that smart mouth of his?"

" _Leave_ ," Obi-Wan snarled, wringing his fingers into Anakin's flesh.

"Of course, as per usual, you would get sick and tired of his smart mouth," it laughed and twisted a smile onto its host's face.

" _Leave_ ," he upheld his strong veneer even though the unflinching debasement had him crumbling inside.

It widened Anakin's eyes in amusement, "Maybe a nice gag would suffice while you ram his ass until it _bleeds_."

His grip tightened and he bellowed, " _Get out of him, you swine_!"

Before it could utter any further vulgarity, Obi-Wan cracked off another hunk of his Living Force and harshly crammed it directly into Anakin's. Lightheadedness, weakness, and nausea came over him immediately. He didn't know how much Living Force he gave and he didn't care; he couldn't bear to hear that _thing_ speak through Anakin another second. Without intention, he collapsed on top of the slighter man, whose head had snapped back lifelessly against the sand, and his body wouldn't comply when he tried to move. It looked like he was stuck until Anakin came to, so he closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing under control.

Anakin awoke in a frenzy. Nobody needed to tell him the dark side overcame him. He felt like he'd been comatose for hours and there was only one other time in his life he'd felt like that. _I still can't remember leading the 501st into treachery._ There was a heart-sickening internal struggle, then nothingness, and now he was on his back in the middle of the Sea with a seemingly unconscious Obi-Wan on top of him. Tears accumulated in his eyes. _What have I done?_ He slithered his fingers under the side of Obi-Wan's head and lightly clenched his mechno-fingers around the blonde's bristly jaw. He straightened Obi-Wan's face towards him and was surprised and grateful when jade eyes fluttered open.

His voice was back to normal when he quaveringly entreated, "My bolides, tell me I didn't hurt you."

"I'm alright," Obi-Wan tiredly smiled, overjoyed to see teary, sky-blue eyes staring back at him. The mismatched fingers that gently worked to untangle knots from his hair prompted him to reassure, "I'm okay." He didn't want to look away from the beautiful, natural face before him, but he lacked the energy to hold his head up. He laid the side of his head back down on Anakin's chest, "Do you remember anything that happened?"

Shaking fingers continued to comb through sandy blonde locks, "No. When it takes over, I can't remember anything, not for a while. I still don't remember executing Order 66. I only know what I did from…from someone else telling me. I don't know if it's because my mind and body are adapting or…I don't know."

"Don't worry about it right now." _Thank the Force_ _I didn't lose you again._ "Let's go back to the house," he negotiated and dug his elbows into the sand on either side of the thin torso beneath him. However, it became clear the side effects of his actions hadn't quite worn off yet when he wound up collapsing.

"Sweet mother of chaos, Obi-Wan," Anakin cupped the side of the limp man's head. He couldn't hide the alarm etched in his features when he drew Obi-Wan's face back towards him, "Why did you lie to me? I hurt you. I knew it."

Despite the perspiration coating his body and the exhaustion enveloping him, Obi-Wan didn't want Anakin to get worked up. His hand landed on a defined ribcage, "No, you didn't."

"You-"

"I gave a substantial amount of Living Force to you. The only way to drive out darkness is with light. I have intrinsic light so..."

Anakin swallowed harshly. He gently lowered Obi-Wan's head to his chest to hide the observable disturbance on his face. His hands skimmed over the Jedi's shoulders, "Why would you chance that?"

"To get you back."

His clutched his savior's tunic, "I'm not worth your life."

With the heartbeat strong in Obi-Wan's ear, his response came without hesitation, "No, you're worth much more than that."

"Amanica," Anakain falteringly whispered, burying his mechno-hand into sand-licked caramel tresses and circling his flesh arm around his friend's neck. The past two months proved to be a full-dressed hell. If he wasn't crying, he was yelling. If he wasn't yelling, he was lying. If he wasn't lying, he was going out of his gourd. Nobody but Obi-Wan would ever put up with this. Not even Padmé would have put up with this. If he would have constantly lied to her, shouted at her, acted terrifying around her, she would have left him. Or at least asked for a prolonged separation until he stopped acting that way. After he knocked Clovis' head through the ground, she wanted him out. She ended up forgiving him, but this situation would be equivalent to continuously knocking Clovis' head through the ground. She wouldn't have kept forgiving him if he kept upsetting her so terribly.

He couldn't figure out why Obi-Wan let him stay. _I know he's not attached to me. He's made that brutally clear on numerous occasions._ Maybe they were like brothers in some ways, but he was a traitor. He was owed less than nothing and there was no chance the way he acted day in and day out won him any favors. Now here they were in the middle of the desert and he was sure, based on the patterns in the sand, their disheveled clothes, and the position they were in, that they'd gotten into a scuffle. If he ever raised a hand to Padmé, no matter what was wrong with him, she would have never looked at him again. Had she still been around, she would shun him after what happened on Mustafar and _he wouldn't blame her_.

He expected no less from Obi-Wan.

It didn't matter Obi-Wan was a Jedi Master and perfectly capable of fighting anyone in the known galaxy; _it was unacceptable_.

The Jedi already forgave him once for this offense and he decided once was the cutoff point.

His arm dropped to Obi-Wan's waist, but his mechno-hand stayed on the back of his dear friend's head to act as a stabilizer when he very carefully rolled them over, "This is too much. It's…you don't deserve this."

Obi-Wan could barely keep his eyes open, "What?"

"I have no right to put my hands on you or scream in your face every rotation or make you live in fear of what I might do," Anakin proclaimed as he gently set the blonde's head against the sand.

There was a slight crinkle in his housemate 's brow, "I'll decide my own limits, thank you."

"You can't even move right now," his head shook in disagreement and his arm unsnarled from the other Forceful's waist. "You've clearly been pushed well past your limits."

The iris recoloration, the obscenities, the threats... Everything Obi-Wan witnessed that night flashed through his mind's eye as Anakin pushed away from him. He couldn't allow the fallen Jedi to get worked up and slip into darkness again. He was too weak to afford any more energy. First, he tried to bargain, "I'm tired. Let's talk about this later, okay? Just take me home."

Anakin stood to his full height with his head framed by his hands, "I can't subject you to this. I'll go. _I'm going_."

Obi-Wan would never outright lie to Anakin. It simply wasn't something he was capable of. What he was capable of was playing on sympathy and guilt. He couldn't recall another time in his life when he'd pandered to such emotions, or another time when he'd emotionally manipulated Anakin, but he'd do anything to keep the spiraling Tatooinian from bolting. He laboriously slurred out, "You're going to leave me out here?"

It was all that was needed.

Anakin swiftly kneeled down again and he repentantly croaked, "No, I'm not going to leave you out here, amanica."

By no means was Obi-Wan overweight, but given his current physical condition, it was going to be difficult to carry the older man all the way back to the house without any mishaps. Ordinarily, in years past, he would have simply hoisted Obi-Wan off the ground then away they'd go. He might have even cheated and used the Force. Now, he would have to do this the hard way. He moved to the apex of Obi-Wan's head and stooped down to stuff his fingers under the blonde's shoulders. He upraised his former master into a sitting position then scooted close so he could swathe his arms around the Jedi's waist. He settled his chin on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "We're going to stand up, okay? I want you to lean against me and use any strength you have in your legs. Got it?" Hearing a hum of understanding, he instructed, "On the count of three. One, two, three."

On the last count, Obi-Wan complied with the instructions he was given, helping his aide to bring him to a standing position. "That was perfect. Now hold onto my arms and try to stand as long as you can. I need to get in front of you." He again complied, though it took his stability and caused him to stumble when Anakin switched positions. The younger Forceful moved quickly enough to catch him and re-embrace his waist. They stood still for a moment in order to rebalance before moving onto the next step.

His nausea and lightheadedness increased with all the movement. In the case his exhaustion grew worse and he slip out of consciousness, giving Anakin an unhindered opportunity to break camp, he decided to take a few precautions. He looked up through heavy lashes, "You're going to stay with me and make sure my energy doesn't need to be replenished, aren't you?" His forehead pressed against the taller man's chest, "Stay. I feel so sick."

He smiled to himself when he heard the soft reassurance, "I'm here as long as you need me."

Anakin was soon on the move again. He kept his right arm around Obi-Wan's waist while his left hand grasped the man's corresponding wrist. He kneeled on his right knee, which was somewhat between his friend's legs, and upstretched Obi-Wan's arm over his head. With great care, he pulled his comrade over his shoulders and his right arm skated between the man's thighs. With this maneuvering, Anakin was able to balance Obi-Wan's entire person over the back of his neck and shoulders. The inside of his right elbow supported the back inside of Obi-Wan's right thigh and his left hand sternly clutched the Stewjonian's right wrist. With a totally straight back and complete balance, he started the trek to the house. _Definitely not the easy way._

"Let's get you in bed and I'll bridge our Living Forces. I don't want yours lacking."

Obi-Wan heard the statement, but his smarting body wouldn't allow him to devise a proper response. This time wasn't manipulation. This time, with the new position and their constant movement, he meant it, "I don't feel right."

"I know. Just try to stay conscious for me."

It was the last thing he heard before he fainted.


	8. Tell Him

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: I read this story for the first time without sleep deprivation and realized that a) I should stop drinking while writing and b) I apparently gave no fucks in the previous chapters. Not. A. Single. Fuck. If anybody goes back and notices revisions to earlier chapters...just know it had to be done.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Seven (Part A): Tell Him

 _Clink. Clink._

 _What is that?_ His cranium was a bowl of lead and electric shocks convulsed through every joint and muscle. He felt like he'd been hit by a cargo freighter and to top it off, he didn't know what that clinking sound was. He laid flat on his back as his eyes adjusted out of their sleep-filled fog, trying to pinpoint the source of that resounding _clink, clink, clink_. His vision eventually sharpened and after a moment, he noticed a mist on the window. _It's raining. No wonder I couldn't place that sound._ There hadn't been a good downpour since last year. Anything other than cloudless, sweltering sun was a rare atmospheric condition on Tatooine.

Grey sunlight streamed through the cracks in the blue curtains as he tried to recall why he felt so horrendous. Had he fallen off the roof of the house? Had he been assaulted by a nexu? The harder he tried to recall his ordeal, the more his head throbbed. He decided to ask Anakin what went on, but when he tried to get up, his nervous system refused to obey the signals from his brain. He couldn't move a muscle. It felt like the force of gravity had multiplied.

While he was evaluating how to remedy this infirmity, a balmy sensation started to swallow his body like a monga-snake. Heat radiated in his toes and meandered up his legs, numbing his lower back and spine. It tied knots into his stomach and increased his heartrate as it glided over his chest and down his arms. A prickling sensation mixed with the broiling heat when it branched up his neck and swirled around his head. Only when his energy felt feverish did he realize what was consuming him. _Anakin's energy._

Force bonds were a strange breed of animal.

After the incident in the Sea, Anakin forged a bond that was much more extensive and long-lasting than the temporary ones they forged during meditation. He knew it was the only way he would be able to provide enough Living Force to rehabilitate the Jedi. One good byproduct of this beefed-up bond was the increased ability to monitor Obi-Wan's condition. Since it is impossible to separate your cosmic signature from your energy, even if you give it away in a bond, he was able to gauge his friend's emotions and wellbeing by using his Living Force as a meter.

The connectedness Force bonds created could also cause physical side effects like the ones Obi-Wan was currently experiencing, especially when the two bonders were highly attuned.

As soon as Obi-Wan recognized his friend's Living Force, he tried to blanket himself in it. Anakin's energy was not always easy to tolerate. Sometimes it caused him to feel emotionally overwhelmed or physically sick because of how erratic it could be. There'd been a couple times when they bonded he distinctly remembered thinking _It's like crash-landing in an assault ship_. He never mentioned when he felt like that, he knew it would upset Anakin. But he'd deal with that feeling a hundred times a rotation if it meant he got to feel like he did at this very moment. There was nothing he adored more than being enveloped in his best friend's energy while it was placid. With every little tendril of their energies he coiled together, the heat and tingling in his body intensified. _I need more. Where are you, love?_

::::

Anakin tried three different types of hypnosis on himself and still couldn't unlock his repressed memories. Although he didn't know what he'd done out in the Sea, there was no chance it was anything friendly, funny, or forgivable. He already knew there wasn't a snowball's chance on this sun-scorched planet Obi-Wan was going to give him any specifics. His old master already thought he was loose around the edges and wasn't going to whip out a seam-ripper anytime soon. He had to do something! He had to figure out what happened! He needed to know what he said! If that abhorrent voice in his head accessed his tongue, he needed to make it right.

Obi-Wan was a tenacious, seasoned warrior that could face down pretty much anything. That wasn't something Anakin questioned for even a second. However, there were certain little things that really got to his old master. He knew degradation of any variety never sat well with the Stewjonian and that wicked voice constantly spewed it. If any degrading statements were made, he was willing to expose the darkness inside him and ask forgiveness. It's not that he thought Obi-Wan couldn't cope with whatever might have been said so much as he didn't want Obi-Wan to think _he_ was the one saying it.

The only thing worse than the uncertain was the certain.

The last thing he ever wanted was Obi-Wan in danger because of him. The Sea Circumstance was his fault no matter how it was sliced. He should have never agreed to wait in that corvette instead of turning himself into Sidious. He should have never agreed to live in this house. He should have never run his mouth and made it common knowledge that Living Forces were capable of fending off the dark side. Without his loose lips, the man he loved wouldn't have been hurt trying to get a pitiful piece of Sithspit like him back into his weak-willed mind.

 _You are delaying the inevitable. You will die in the dark. You know it and Obi-Wan knows it. He laid his head on the chopping block to stop you from falling for one reason. He wants to be able to tell himself he tried to do the moral thing. He tried to save you. That way, when he puts you down like a rabid beast in the end, his conscience is clear. Why else would he give his energy over to worthless waste like you?_

"Why is he doing any of this? Why is he healing my wounds and talking to me like we're friends and making me dinner and doing my laundry and making my bed? Why doesn't he tell the brixing truth?"

 _Why doesn't he say he hates listening to your devilish mouth? Why doesn't he say he hates how insane you are? He hates touching your Living Force. He always has. It's a joke, a-_

" _Stop_ ," he fiercely rebuked himself. "This is what drove you up the wall two nights ago. You love Obi-Wan and you know he does not operate like that. _Stop_."

He mentally recited these words as he took deep, meditative breaths. He didn't get far in his self-soothing techniques before a thrill writhed up his spine, shooting into the base of his skull and fanning across his shoulders. _Obi-Wan._ He stood from the end of his bed and swiftly made his way to the bedroom on the other side of the house. A smile lit up his face when he found his friend lethargically blinking up at the ceiling. He carefully climbed onto the side of the bed and gently placed his mechno-hand on the drowsy man's stomach, "I'm so glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

The response was almost whined, "Tired."

His mechno-thumb rubbed small circles into Obi-Wan's stomach, "Do you feel nauseous or anything? Too hot or too cold?"

"Just tired."

"I'm making sure you aren't feeling any negative side effects from the energy I gave you. Your Living Force was much too diminished for comfort, so I shared mine with yours."

"I'm fine."

His mechno-thumb stilled as he leaned down and dug his left elbow into the mattress beside the blonde's shoulder, "How did you know that would work? Sharing only a portion of your energy, I mean."

Obi-Wan slowly blinked, "What?"

"You only shared half of your Living Force with me. How did you know that only a portion would drive out the darkness?"

The slurred response was repeated with the same inflection and muddle, "What?"

He frowned and relocated his mechno-hand to the side of the disoriented man's bristly jaw, "Do you not remember what happened?"

"Not really."

He wasn't sure if this was good news or bad news. On one hand, it meant Obi-Wan wouldn't remember any vile thing he may have said during the Sea Circumstance. On the other hand, it meant Obi-Wan might have head trauma or be suffering negative reactions from their energy exchange. _I'd rather have to explain multiple personalities._ He'd gotten into the business of exchanging vast amounts of energy twice now, but he was on the receiving end both times. There was no doubt what giving all of one's Living Force resulted in- his wife's fate left no question. But giving only _half_? He wasn't sure what the side effects could entail. His mechno-thumb comfortingly swiped across Obi-Wan's cheek, "Maybe it will all come back when your Living Force heals."

The subsequent words were spoken calmly and tiredly, "I need you inside me."

He yanked his hand to his chest, " _What_?"

"Your energy."

Feeling like a fool for his lewd misinterpretation, he stood upright and took a couple steps away from the bed, "No. No, I can't give you anymore right now. I gave you all you needed to bolster your energy while it was too diminished to start regeneration naturally. Now your Living Force needs to separate what's left of mine out so it can finish regenerating on its own."

Obi-Wan took a cavernous breath, "Please?"

Battle-worn fingers scrunched up the coverlet as they inched towards Anakin. He stepped forward and grabbed the wandering digits, "As soon as you get better, okay? Then my energy is an Infinite Nebstar Casino buffet. You can take as much as you want from me."

Emerald eyes closed, "I need you now."

There was a nauseating whirl in his stomach and he instantly recognized how emotional Obi-Wan was getting. He wasn't sure why his refusal to share his energy was causing such turmoil, but it was certainly the last thing he wanted. His mechno-hand tightened around Obi-Wan's and his flesh hand moved to the pillow beside the man's head, "Don't be upset." He leaned in to connect their eyes, "Can't you feel me? I can feel you. I feel you coursing through every nerve, through every vein, every bone. Do you feel me?"

"Yes."

"Focus on me." He brushed his fingertips through Obi-Wan's caramel beard, "There's no need to get upset."

The immobile man tried to lean into the touch, "You said you were going."

 _The one thing he remembers._ He touched a gentle fingertip to the end of the distraught Jedi's nose, "I'm not going anywhere while you need me."

Obi-Wan's eyes were heavier than link-steel when he beseeched, "Please don't keep yourself from our bond."

The back of Anakin's left hand smeared over his mouth when he felt a thrashing pang in his chest. _Force, Obi-Wan. We've become way too dependent on each other's energy._ He squeezed the fingers in his grip firmly, "That's not what I'm doing. I'm trying to heal you. As soon as you're better, you can have as much of my energy as you want, but I promise you won't want it as badly as you do now. My energy is assisting yours at the moment, so you are instinctually seeking more of it."

Obi-Wan lost his filter in his unguarded state, "No, I want more of you."

Anakin felt another stab in his chest. This one sent tidal heatwaves surging through his body. _Was that anger? He must really want more of my energy._ Unfortunately, he knew he could not relent, "You'll feel differently when your head's on straight."

::::

The torrential rain passed by the second time he came to. He was relieved when he could lift his hand from the bed and slather it over his oily face. He figured it was safe to sit up after he elevated onto an elbow to test out the condition of his noggin and suffered no onsets of vertigo. He slowly pushed to the side of the bed to stand up but promptly fell to the floor. Though the shout of his name came from the other side of the house, Anakin was at his side in a matter of seconds. The Tatooinian pulled him into a sitting position by the biceps, "Why didn't you yell for me?"

"I felt fine," he reasoned. "I didn't think it would be a problem."

Anakin moved behind him and wrapped mismatched arms around his underarms, "You probably need more rest. You've only been asleep for a rotation and a half. Use any strength in your legs." He complied with the order, enabling the brunette to haul him onto the side of the bed. Steady hands relocated to his shoulders to prop him up, "Your energy probably hasn't finished regenerating. I'm sure once it's done, your body will be back in working order."

"I can sit up on my own."

Anakin retracted his hands, "Oh, sorry."

Obi-Wan tiredly smiled, "No, I wasn't…I mean, I was informing you my body is operating fine for the most part. It's only standing apparently that I'm having trouble with."

"Oh, well, I'd say another rotation or two and that should be no problem." His arms crossed behind his back and he made a concentrated effort to maintain eye contact when he inquired, "So…do you remember what happened?"

 _You would get sick and tired of his smart mouth._ Obi-Wan's hands leaned against the edge of the bed, "Yes."

With his breathing and heartrate quickening, he bit his lower lip, "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. Anything I said to you-"

"I've known you the majority of your life, in case you've forgotten. I am well aware when you are not acting normally. On Mustafar, in the Sea; I knew you were overtaken."

He gripped his elbows tighter and commenced an edgy pace, "Every time something overtakes me, I try to kill you."

 _I'll go. I'm going_. Obi-Wan shook his head, "Don't start that again."

The brunette ceased his short-lived pace in the corner of the room. He faced the wall and softly reasoned, "You're not safe with me and you don't deserve to live constantly on-guard. It's becoming clearer and clearer you're living with the enemy."

"First off, you're not my enemy; you're my best friend. Secondly, nobody has a lightsaber to my throat," Obi-Wan's eyebrows creased, unsure why his former padawan was still stuck on this. "I am here because I choose to be."

Anakin turned, dropped his hands from behind his back, and skeptically stared, "Why?"

The demanding query earned a subdued sigh, "How many years have you been asking me that?"

His fisted hands settled on his hips, "How many years have you been giving inadequate justifications?"

Obi-Wan clasped the sheets in despair, "Why can't you accept I care about you?"

"Because that's not a legitimate answer."

"Because it's from me."

"Yes, because it's from you!"

"I can't do anything about it if you think I'm incapable of caring about someone," the Jedi defeatedly laid back on the bed and molded a hand over his forehead.

Anakin agitatedly pointed at his own chest, "You're not incapable of caring about someone; you're incapable of caring about _me_!"

Terrible cold chills raced through Obi-Wan's body and it felt like wax was in his throat. _You always have to go for the Achilles tendon, don't you?_ His eyes closed as he tried to swallow, "I don't know why you have to say things like that."

The Tatooinian's voice lowered in response to the quiet, pained remark, "You're the one who said it, not me."

"I've never said _anything_ like that," he repudiated.

"In the Meditation Garden, in the billet, in the Jedi courier, on Draethos, on Rennokk-"

His hand slipped from his forehead and he sat up once more, "You're twisting my words."

The accusation reignited Anakin's wrath, "Netflash, Obi-Wan! In the galaxy of non-Jedi, normal-speaking fucking people the words _I have no attachment to you_ means _I don't care about you_!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

To his surprise, Anakin snatched the screen of a holotrace device from the built-in shelf beside the door and violently smashed it against the ground. There was a firework-like bang and shattered pieces of the screen scattered across the flextile in every direction. The extreme show of anger wasn't acknowledged as he yelled, "How the fuck did you know giving half of your energy was going to bring me back? It took all of Padmé's! How'd you know it'd take only half of yours?"

Ordinarily, that kind of destructive outburst would be addressed immediately. Obi-Wan thought smashing random objects to alleviate rage was something Anakin left behind in early adolescence and he wasn't partial to that phase coming back around. At the same time, he knew the score. Irrespective of who brought it up, attachment had always been a touchy subject. The only matter worse to talk to Anakin about than _attachment_ was _attachment to Obi-Wan_.

He wasn't a di'kut. He was well aware Anakin was attached to him. It was the only reason for the tremendous upset when he would say the attachment wasn't mutual. He didn't allow his imagination to run wild about it though. The attachment to him was undoubtedly familial, as a brother is attached to a brother or a son is attached to a father. While Anakin was his padawan, he would never ask himself whether or not he held attachment, so the only proper answer was _No, I am not attached to you_. When he recognized his deep attachment later on, he continued to say _No, I am not attached to you_ because it was easier to deny all attachment than to try to translate his romantic attachment into familial attachment.

He'd been self-righteous in the Sea. He told himself he would never outright lie to Anakin, but that's what he'd been doing for years and he'd been doing it to make it easier on himself. He thought if he began saying _You are my brother_ , it would be enough to soothe his volatile friend. However, it was made clear time and again more was expected of him. Despite that strain in their relationship, he could never find it within himself to come up with elaborate details of familial attachment that didn't exist.

But as he sat on that bed and saw how much pain this _still_ caused after all these years, he didn't see how he could keep taking the easy way out.

Only Anakin's tumultuous history with attachment convinced him to let the violent outburst slide. They hadn't spoken of the subject in many years and to bring it up again was tantamount to tearing open a freshly-stitched wound. Instead, he did his best to ride the swing in emotions, "Hatred wasn't teeming from every fiber of your being like it was on Mustafar. When I found your energy, it hadn't been contorted. It was still _you_. I knew there had to be time for me to do something."

"So, you didn't _know_ ," Anakin woefully stressed.

He focused on his incensed friend's eyes to make sure they stayed a healthy blue, "I would have rather taken the chance and failed than missed the opportunity to save you. Not that I care or anything." He literally bit his tongue. _Why'd you have to say the last line?_

The fallen Jedi turned and silently stared for a moment. At first, he was about to blow his top, then he recalled the age-old proverb of Obi-Wan standing on the right side of everything. _This man gives you a home. You blast off. He tracks you down. You attack him. He gives you over half his life's energy and tells you he cares about you. You yell at him and smash his shit. Go fuck yourself._ After a second of unfaltering eye contact, he crossed the room and hugged his wonderfully patient and giving friend, "Thank you. I know I would be lost in darkness again without you."

After overcoming an initial bite of confusion, Obi-Wan gladly took this positive turn and returned the embrace, "Did this type of event ever happen when you were in the Lake Country?"

"No," the brunette pulled back and kneeled at his former master's feet. "At least, not that I can recall."

"Did something happen to trigger it? A terror? A frightening thought? Did I say something?"

He clasped Obi-Wan's knee, "You didn't do or say anything to cause it."

"Did you have a night terror?"

The younger Forceful looked down, "No."

"You'd been awake?" The terse glance the Jedi received told him all he needed to know. His middle finger traced over Anakin's temple, "So that brain of yours was a-going. What is the last thing you remember thinking about?"

"I don't know," was the dismissive reply.

His encouragement was undemanding as he recalled the memory lapse Anakin suffered after being yanked back into the light, "Concentrate. You were acting curiously. You kept opening and closing the oven for about forty-five minutes then you retired to your bedroom. What happened after that?"

The Tatooinian stood up and took a couple steps back while nervously wringing his hands, "I started mulling over how thermal I am."

Obi-Wan's head tilted in question, "For what you did in the kitchen?"

"Yeah."

"If-"

"Then I started mulling over how thermal _you_ probably perceive me to be," he teetered on his feet before turning to his right. His pacing, voice, and hand motions were frantic, "I thought about how much you _hate_ my histrionics and probably wish I would _shut up_ and _sit down_ for once. I thought about how franging fed up you probably are with me and how much you probably want to _slap my mouth_ or _leave_ or _kick me out,_ just get the kwaag away from me so you don't have to look at my fucking face another second and-"

At this point, he finally paced close enough that the older man could lean forward and grab his tunic, "Anakin. Breathe with me."

Obi-Wan inhaled audibly through his nose then exhaled with an exaggerated purse of his lips. After repeating the steps a couple times, Anakin joined in. Within a minute of this practice, he released the tunic in his hold, "I endured your childhood, preteen, and teenage tantrums. Admittedly, your adult tantrums are different in nature, but I can handle them all the same. _I'm_ not going to leave and _you're_ not going to leave. If you ever have these thoughts again, remind yourself I have seen the _very worst_ parts of you. I have seen them _many_ _times_ for _many_ _years_ at _very close proximity_ and still I am here with you." When hopeful, unsure eyes bore into his, he bent forward, "Okay?"

The inquiry earned a nod and catlike eyes cast to a shard of the holotrace screen on the floor, "Can I ask you an unrelated question?"

"What?"

The question was as quiet as a skimp, "Do you like when our Living Forces touch?"

A small snicker accompanied Obi-Wan's smile, "What kind of question is that?"

Shame heated up Anakin's cheeks. He knew he shouldn't have asked, but it weighed heavy on his mind after such an extensive bond had been shared between them the past couple rotations. Every tender caress of their energies lifted him to a heavenly sphere and he wanted to know if it was the same for Obi-Wan. He knew he shouldn't have asked…

"It's the only time I've known completion."

His head jerked up and they stared intently at each other for some time. Between his paranoia and low self-esteem, he wasn't convinced he heard right. He closed the distance between them and kneeled down as he had earlier, "You do like it?"

Obi-Wan hunched forward, "I said, it's the only time I've known completion."

Anakin didn't know quite what to say. _It's the closest thing he's ever said and will ever say to I love you._ Obi-Wan's breath gently panted against his face and his flickering eyes could barely stay open under the longing he felt staring into those spellbinding jade orbs. _It's Obi-Wan. He meant it helps him to better harmonize with the Force and he's probably wondering why you're staring like this._ He forced his eyes downwards and leaned back.

Before he could stand, Obi-Wan settled a hand on his shoulder, "Can I ask you an unrelated question?" He curtly nodded. "What does _amanica_ mean?"

He swiftly stood up and turned away to hide his blush, "Why do you ask that?"

"You called me _amanica_ twice in the Dune Sea. What does it mean?"

"It's a nonsensical Tal-nira word," he assumed his best impression of nonchalance. As a distraction, he took a knee, held out the bottom of his overtunic, and began placing shards of the holotrace screen into it. Obi-Wan knew many tongues, but Tal-nira wasn't one of them. It's why he used the language to begin with. With careful maneuvering, he may be able to get out of this mess with his dignity.

Obi-Wan's arms crossed, "If it's a nonsensical term, why did you call me it?"

He scurried around the floor, pretending to be concentrated on the task of picking up the demolished screen, "I didn't. I was saying it, you know, like _oh star_ s. I was using it like _O_ _h stars, Obi-Wan, I'm not going to leave you out here_."

"Affording energy made me tired, Anakin, not stupid. I am highly capable of using context clues and you called me _amanica_. What does it mean?" The stubborn silence Obi-Wan received only increased his determination. _If you're going to act like a ten-year-old again, I'll treat you like one._ "If you are really going to force me to find a translator, I'll do it."

Anakin peered over his shoulder to petulantly scoff, "And you say _I_ can't let things go? It means _kindred spirit._ "

"Why was that so hard to say?"

He aimlessly waved around a fragment of holotrace screen between his mechno-fingers, "Because in Galactic Basic Standard it sounds churlish."

"You are so strange," Obi-Wan's brow rose. "Now put those pieces on the table and come help me to the refresher. I need to use it immediately."

The brunette walked towards the thin rectangular table under the window, "I'm strange? Says the man who's willing to go to the trouble of finding a translator over a single word."

 _And he probably should have._ He turned his tunic inside out to push the pieces of the device onto the table. _Although you are my kindred spirit, that's not what amanica means._ He turned and made his way towards the bed. _It means sweetheart. And it's the perfect pet name for you._

::::

He was only trying to decompress. He didn't want to think about night terrors. He didn't want to think about his irrational emotions. He didn't want to think about Obi-Wan. He didn't want to think about the Sith. He didn't want to think about Padmé. He didn't want to think about his children. He didn't want to think about the terrible modifications Organa had probably made to Artoo and Threepio. He didn't want to think about his disgusting body. He didn't want to think about blood, electromagnetic radiation, flame blasters, explosive knives, a field of entrails, celestial spheres. He didn't want to think anymore. _Just sleep._

A green, blinking light and a continual blaring noise snapped him out of his groggy state. His head hammered back against his pillow with a frustrated groan, "I'll never sleep again." He reached over to snatch the source of his frustration off his bedside table and sat up. Unsure how to activate it, he fumbled with the comlink a bit until he decided to mash the blinking light. A small projector in the middle of the thin, white, decagon-shaped gadget cast forth an image of Ahsoka holding a matching device. _These rebels have all kinds of fancy toys. Comlink is not the right name, my padawan._ He noticed a black, reflective screen on the side of the tiny communication device and figured that must be where the mic and corder were. He sat up straight and waved, "Hey, Snips."

"Hey, Anakin," the Shilian waved back with her free hand. "I'm at a rendezvous point holing until some Phoenix rebels materialize. I thought I'd comm you up in my downtime! I wanted to see how you and Obi-Wan are faring."

"We're surviving," he rubbed one of his sleepy eyes. "There was an incident…"

"Incident?"

He held up his hand in surrender, "Don't point the Togruta war spear at me."

"I will try my best to contain the urge," she laughed.

"I relapsed."

Her hand framed her cheek, "How big of a relapse?"

He knew he could have easily saved himself any trouble by not mentioning the Sea Circumstance, but he wanted to earn back his former padawan's trust and knew concealing things from her wasn't going to earn him any points, "Prodigious."

The renounced Jedi tried to strain any accusation out of her voice, "Did you hurt Obi-Wan?"

"He's tired but fine."

"Well, let's hear it."

He placed the comlink on one of his thighs and rubbed his hands over his face, "I…I lost it. Simple as that. I got myself so stirred up I became a fraidee-frog. I practically put the pass key on the panel, opened the door, and invited the dark side in. I-"

She waved her hand back and forth, "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to interrupt, but _what_? What's fraidee-frog?"

"Gungan term. It basically means I was afraid. I scared the hell out of myself and trucked out into the Dune Sea in the dead of the night. Obi-Wan came after me. He says we wrestled and there was no real damage from it, but he couldn't purge the darkness from me. So, in a last-ditch effort he...forfeited a little over half of his Living Force to mine."

"What?" Ahsoka shrieked, her hand flailing skyward. "He could have died!" The despondent expression she received let her know Anakin was well aware of that and had thoroughly beaten himself up over it. She took a very deep breath and tried to offer solace, "But if he's still kicking it and you're firing on all thrusters again, his gamble paid off." Unfocused, gloomy eyes made her insist, "I was surprised, Skyguy. I didn't mean he shouldn't have chanced it. What got you so blazing to begin with?"

"I thought Obi-Wan was fed up with me."

She consciously stopped herself from laughing, "Is that really the reason?"

"Yes. I was afraid he was going to leave me."

"Obi-Wan's not going to leave you," she confidently declared. _He loves you more than life clearly._ "Why would that even be a concern?"

 _Yes, Anakin, why would that be a concern, you backsliding defective?_

His eyes closed in an attempt to clear his head, "I…I kept thinking after all these years, he's probably sick and tired of my interminable cycle of dramatics."

This time, she couldn't contain her laughter, "You have it twisted like a spiral galaxy, Master. Obi-Wan is so accustomed to you, I don't think he knows how to function without you. When you were gone, he acted like a ghost of himself. A very sad, very lonely ghost. The minute he found you on Naboo, he snapped right back to his old self and if you don't think that's because of you, you're in denial. You mean the divine cosmos to him."

Anakin twisted his hand around the shielding of his mechno-arm. _I wish I meant that to him._ He knew the only thing he was to Obi-Wan was a responsibility. He was a student, a lamb, a patient and Obi-Wan was his teacher, his shepherd, his doctor. If they'd met under other circumstances, _any single other circumstance,_ Obi-Wan would have never wanted him as a friend. Some hateful, disrespectful, ferocious guy that used his mouth and fist more than his brain half the time… There was no question: Obi-Wan had always felt and would always feel responsible for the assignment given to him eighteen years prior.

Her hand raised palm-up in front of her chest, "Why didn't you talk to Obi-Wan if you were that upset?"

"Because I make bad decisions."

The reprimand in her voice was unintentional, "You have to be more open with him. You can't have him giving his energy to you off the cuff like that."

The words were like a vibrospade to the head. Anakin knew Obi-Wan's risky behavior was his fault and Ahsoka's admonishment only reaffirmed it. How was it Obi-Wan could protect him at every turn, yet he couldn't seem to return the favor even _once_? Metal fingers anxiously stroked through tussled curls, "If he'd been seriously harmed or worse…I don't know what I would have done."

The self-accusation was evident.

Ahsoka tried to speak more softheartedly, "Did his Living Force already regenerate?"

"For the most part. I gave him some of mine to help the process along," he forthrightly admitted.

She tried to bite back her criticism; she really did. _But these two know better!_ Obi-Wan and Anakin were both astonishingly intelligent and incredibly skilled with the Force. Even if their skill and intelligence levels weren't winning arguments on their own, she expressly knew Anakin knew not to share your Living Force with others because _he taught her that_! Furthermore, she knew _he learned that from his master_ , which was obviously Obi-Wan! Though these two didn't have to worry about one another causing damage (probably), they could get to a point where they wouldn't be able to function without each other's energy. Her head shook disapprovingly and the scold in her voice returned, "You two are going to be so damn codependent on each other's Living Force."

"We already were. At least, _I_ was dependent on his." He finally met his friend's wide gaze, "We've been temporarily bonding during joint meditations since I arrived. I've craved his energy since the second or third time."

"Tell him."

A half-smile stretched over his lips, "I'm sure he already knows. I never pull back from the bond-"

"No," she interrupted her former master. Her head tilted forward and she stressed the directive, " _Tell him_."

Down in his bones he knew what she was referring to, but until she made if perfectly clear, he wasn't going to react. She eventually realized he wasn't going to tell on himself if she didn't already know and held out an indicative hand towards him, "He's not just your best friend. You're in love with him."

Anakin didn't advertise his love for Obi-Wan. There'd never been a time where he was feeling schmoozy with someone and said _Hey, can you keep a secret_. His love for Obi-Wan was his sacred garden and he kept it well guarded within the fortress of his heart. Be that as it may, someone once spotted his garden and outright entered it. It was the only other person besides Ahsoka to ever do so. They asked, how long have you been in love with him? Since I was a child, had been the response. They asked, are you sure it's not hero worship? The question had been met by laughter, I worship him, but it's not because he's my hero. They asked, why aren't you in a relationship with him? They had received a sad smile, he doesn't want me.

Although he didn't flaunt his love for Obi-Wan, he wasn't going to deny it to anybody, "It's glaring, isn't it?"

She smiled reassuringly, "To me. I doubt it is to Obi-Wan."

"I can't tell him. He doesn't return those feelings and I wouldn't be able to bear it being uncomfortable between us."

"How do you know the feelings aren't returned?"

He gave an unimpressed stare from under lowered brows, "It's Obi-Wan, Ahsoka. A paragon of Jedi custom and conduct. A man whose only known relationship was with a female. My master that raised me from the age of ten. A man that has told me forthright, _bluntly, to my face_ , on multiple occasions he has no attachment to me. He doesn't feel the same."

She twisted her head from side to side as though she was stretching for a run on a motility track then took a deep breath, "If he's a paragon of the Jedi way, why did he _break the Code_ and share his Living Force?" When there was no response, she took another breath, "It's called _bisexual_. You should understand the term quite well." She sucked in an additional breath, "You are almost _thirty years old_ and he is _not_ your father." She quickly drew her last dramatic breath and stuck a forefinger in the air, "Furthermore, I would hope you are familiar with the definition of the word _deflection_."

After playing witness to the Togrutan's overconfident attitude, the only riposte he could muster was, "When…did you become exactly like me?"

She only replied with a gleaming smile, "Are you going to tell him?"

"Never. I'll take this to the grave."

The smile was lost, "I don't understand why."

"I already know the answer. I don't want to hear him say it."

"You're making a major planet-sized assumption."

"Even if I was wrong… the only thing someone got in exchange for loving me is death."

There was a pause before Ahsoka solemnly declared, "Obi-Wan deserves to make his own choices instead of you making them for him."

Anakin's gaze fell, "I'm exhausted, Snips. I'm going to try to get some sleep. Stay safe."

"You, too. Catch you in the chaos."

::::

The suns were barely ascended over the horizon when they revved up the landspeeder. Their daily grind consisted of waking up and jetting over to the Great Chott salt flat to visit Luke for two, occasionally three, hours. The Skywalkers made habitual complaints about the time constraints, but Obi-Wan had to fret about both Owen Lars and Anakin manifesting their male egos in shockingly primitive manners in an effort to assert completely meaningless dominance over one another. The two men unquestionably despised each other and did not like the other being in Luke's life, so Obi-Wan figured if he limited the visits to only a couple of hours, Owen would stay out of their hair. So far, it seemed to have worked.

The hum of the repulsorlift engine was barely audible in the sealed cockpit of the speeder. They approached from the northeast, giving them full view of the back of the moisture farm's entry dome. As they were closing in, they noticed a tiny human creeping around the side of the structure with a little red bucket. Anakin leaned forward in the driver's seat, "What's he doing?"

Obi-Wan mimicked the action in the passenger's seat, "I don't know."

He steered the speeder close to his suspiciously-behaving son and deaccelerated the thrust turbines before cutting the engine. He opened the driver's side door only for his offspring to leap at him like a veermok. The boy's arms latched around his legs, "I've missed you."

He smiled and hauled the child up against his chest by the underarms, "I've missed you, too, cadet. What are you doing back here?"

"Oh! I'll show you! I'll show you!" Luke excitedly bounced his legs up and down. Anakin lowered him back to the ground and he scrambled around the door of the landspeeder. He yanked up his abandoned bucket and resumed his one-boy voyage, navigating across the back of the flat. He saw Obi-Wan closing the passenger door and smiled, "Hi, Obi!"

"Hello, Luke," the blonde returned and watched the impish child stroll further along.

Both Obi-Wan and Anakin wore befuddled expressions when Luke stopped at a lead pipe poking straight up from the ground. He held the bucket up to the spigot and twisted a wheel handle to unleash a steady stream of water. They shared an unsure glance and made their way towards him. He filled up his bucket by the time they reached him. Anakin settled a hand on the top of his son's head after the spigot was shut off, "Luke, what are you doing?"

The boy smiled proudly, "I'm gonna take this water and pour it in the sand!"

"Why?"

His smile glimmered as he took slow steps with the water-heavy bucket, "To make figures!"

Anakin's mechno-hand flailed outwards, "But that's-that's- do the Larses know you're doing this with their water?"

"Nope!"

He gazed at Obi-Wan in uncertainty. The Jedi nodded towards Luke with lifted brows to which he shrugged with one raised and one creased eyebrow. In response, Obi-Wan nodded again with higher brows and clandestinely pointed towards Luke. His eyes rolled upwards and he sighed. He strode to his son's side and took the bucket of water, "Luke, you can't be wasting water like this. It's-"

Supermoon-sized eyes stared up at him, "But Daddy, he took my laser pinwheel and gyroball and action figures for forgetting to make my bed and I don't have anything to play with."

After only a few seconds, he mumbled under his breath, "Yeah, screw that guy." He took a couple steps forward and turned the bucket upside down, pouring all of the water into the sand. Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation. He paid no mind to his friend's displeasure when he encouragingly nudged Luke towards the wettened sand, "Sit down and play. I'll get you more water."

As the defiant father turned to make his way back towards the spigot, Obi-Wan stomped cross-armed to his side, "Anakin."

Not wishing to endure any lectures on childrearing, he grasped Obi-Wan's left shoulder to spin the older man around, "Here, Luke, your favorite Jedi Master wants to play with you."

Luke smiled brilliantly and pointed to a spot on the ground, "Okay, Obi, you start on a castle over there and I'll start on the other castle over here."

Obi-Wan was going to object to the blatant brush off from his housemate, but seeing how happy Luke was at his inclusion made him decide to address it later. He couldn't deny he cared about Luke's happiness as much as he cared about Anakin's. That's not to say he was naïve about it.

Anakin was the only person he'd ever loved. No one had ever made him feel alive like Anakin did. No one had ever been able to make him scream in anger or make him cry from laughing or make his heart skip in anticipation or make his blood rush from excitement or make his body ache with need or make his energy beg for touch. Anakin practically gripped him by the throat every single day and said _We are breathing, feeling, throbbing, aching, needing, existing- there is no way out._ He knew all the wild emotions the younger Forceful felt caused unspeakable pain, but they helped to form the most intense, beautiful soul he'd ever known. It was also the most relatable soul he'd ever known.

They both felt disconnected from the world but for different reasons. Anakin felt disconnected from any and every one, from politicians, from other Jedi, from civilians. Obi-Wan was sure it's why he broke so thoroughly with the Order and Code and found a lover. Not to say he didn't love Senator Amidala so much as to say when his abject disconnect and isolation became too overwhelming, he forsake everything to ease the pain. Obi-Wan also felt disconnected, but he wasn't as socially remote as Anakin. He wasn't so disjointed from politicians, other Jedi, or civilians. He was, however, incredibly disconnected from any forms of attachment, as his training taught him to be.

The only relationship he'd ever had that came close to real attachment was with Satine Kryze. Before he fell in love with Anakin, he thought Satine was as lost in love as you could get. He'd been sure it was love.

There were some occasions when she got his blood boiling, but she never left him speechless or breathed life into his soul. When he told her on that ship he would have left the Order for her if she'd asked him to, he hadn't lied. At the time when they intimately knew each other, a time before Anakin, he would have left everything for her. Now he was grateful she never asked.

Many years later, when he realized how far-reaching and strong his love for Anakin was, he realized the attachment he thought he possessed for people, including for Satine, was not and had never been very real. He _cared,_ he didn't want anyone to be unhappy or die or be subjugated, but he wasn't attached to them. It was somewhat ironic. Anakin possessed extreme attachment to multiple people despite having lived a socially disconnected life while he'd lived a socially connected life with no attachment to anyone except to Anakin. And now to Luke, but that was only because the boy was Anakin's son. He knew that probably made him a bad person, but those were the cards he was dealt.

He sat down on the ground and followed the directions he was given to keep that shining smile on Luke's face. After Anakin carried a few buckets of water to their play-site, he looked up with a knowing smirk, "Don't you want to play with us?"

Luke leaned his hands against the damp ground and excitedly lurched forwards, "Yeah, Daddy!"

"Do _I_ want to play in wet sand?" the slender Forceful mockingly laughed. "No, I don't think so."

Obi-Wan casually continued crafting his poorly-constructed sand-castle, "You see, Luke, if Mister Lars finds us, your dad doesn't want to get in trouble, so he is making it look like he is not a part of this."

Anakin crabbily scoffed and flipped the bucket over his shoulder, holding tight to its white carrying rope, "Oh, yes, I'm terribly frightened of Owen Lars."

Obi-Wan managed to smother his smile, "You see? He even admits it."

Luke heartily laughed as his father towered over the Jedi, "You know, Kenobi…"

Obi-Wan paid no mind to the intimidation tactics, "Sometimes I even have to promise him chocolate ice cream and tinta dolls to come over here, he's so scared of Mister Lars."

Anakin tossed the bucket behind him and lunged forward to push his cheeky friend over by the shoulder, "Fine, I'll play in the Force-damn sand! Move over!"

The older Force-sensitive only laughed at how easily the brunette was provoked and pushed himself up to get back to work on his sand-castle. Luke excitedly requested a sand-podracer and the father of two obliged. The figures they designed were not particularly artful, but the youngest of the group enjoyed the activities and that's all that seemed to matter. For a while. Grains of sand kept wedging under Anakin's fingernails and he was ready to scream like a stuck mynock. He kept picking the rough grains out, but he met the same issue the second he touched the wet substance again. After nearly half an hour, he finally picked his nails clean one last time and stood up. He dusted himself off and grumbled, "I hate this foul scourge."

"Perhaps you should write a bitter letter to the sand to express your discontent."

He glared crossly at Obi-Wan, but that damn twitch at the right side of the blonde's mouth stole away any anger. He childishly stuck his tongue out and turned away to walk towards the landspeeder. Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled. Anakin walked to the speeder and climbed on top of its long hood to sit. He pulled one of his legs against his chest and wrapped his arms around it. The other leg sprawled out across the heated erkinite and he watched his son and Obi-Wan play in the wet sand, trying to ignore the fire in his soul.

After his heart-to-heart with Ahsoka, he realized he'd been repeating an offense he thought he'd stop committing in his teenage years: building up false hope. _When you were gone, he acted like a ghost of himself._ That conversation, when they practically cuddled up on the couch, the fleeting touches, the intense gazes... He'd been imagining some great deep affection because that's what he wanted. Obi-Wan was only being compassionate to a friend in a delicate state. There was no love in any of those actions. The instance he imagined sexual tension between them was when he knew he'd officially lost the plot. He'd done nothing but constructed a world of false hope which meant it was going to be soul-killing when the illusion shattered.

He scooted to the end of the hood, hopped off, and moseyed around to the back of the vehicle.

In spite of all this logical analysis, he pleaded to the Force for Obi-Wan to love him back. It was a silly thing to do. He was a traitor, a murderer, a liar, an emotional, hideous maniac. His old master didn't hold attachments or like to get caught up in drama or suffer fools. If Obi-Wan ever fell in love with anybody, he'd be the most implausible, improbable, unlikely candidate. That didn't stop the heart-gnawing longing. Why couldn't he let go of this ridiculous fantasy? He looked over and saw Luke's smile shining like a quasi-stellar object. He'd always wanted a relationship with Obi-Wan, but he'd never added children into the equation.

His hand slapped over his hung mouth in horror. Tears flooded his eyes and his mechno-hand clapped over top of his flesh hand. Guilt and shame swarmed through him like locust and he staggered back against the tail of the landspeeder. _Killed off your wife so you and Obi-Wan can have the babies she delivered. That's low even by my standards, Anakin._

Unaware of his father's woes, Luke rocked to his feet and dusted off his clothes, "I have to go inside. I wanna drink of water."

Obi-Wan pointed towards the spigot, "You can't get a drink here?"

Luke's face scrunched in disapproval, "That's _dirty_ , Obi."

"Oh, excuse me," the Stewjonian laughed. "Carry on."

Obi-Wan watched Luke dash along the back of the entry dome and duck around the curve of the wall before twisting around to locate his missing housemate. When he found the man sitting on the back of the speeder, staring at nothing, he knew something wasn't right. He stood from the ground and hastily headed towards Anakin. He tried to act nonchalant as he leaned against the passenger's door with crossed his arms, "Are you trying to cast a hex on the sand?"

Anakin lowered his hands from his mouth, "Don't doubt my hexing powers."

"I'm sure he'll get bored of your reviled rival soon enough. He already has two castles, a podracer, and a purported tree."

The younger Forceful mindlessly clutched his folded hands against the bottom of his throat, "You're really good with him. I wish I had the instincts you have."

 _Something definitely isn't right._ Obi-Wan pushed away from the landspeeder and took a step forward, "Your instincts are perfectly fine."

"If he gets too much of my instincts, he'll become corrupted."

He took a couple more steps forward and lightly touched Anakin's shoulder, "Why would you say that?"

"I'm filthy. Why wouldn't the filth pass down my bloodline and spill onto others?"

He circled around the corner of the speeder to carefully place his hands on sun-kissed cheeks, "Nothing about you or your bloodline is filthy. Look at me. Why are you thinking like this all of a sudden?"

Anakin opened his mouth, but no words came out. _I'm trying to replace my wife with you._ Tear after tear crawled from his eyes. Obi-Wan's expression turned to one of grave concern as he attempted to wipe each crystalline droplet away. When the heartsick sobs were unleashed, he cupped a hand around the back of honey curls and enfolded his other arm around the brunette's waist. Anakin's face ended up against his shoulder and shaking hands clutched the front of his tunic. His melodious voice cooed, "Don't cry, faneta. We don't have to talk about it right now."

"Daddy?"

The older Skywalker instinctively froze and tried to muffle his sobs, unsure what else to do. Luckily, Obi-Wan knew Anakin would not want Luke to witness this scene. He still held tight to the man in his arms when he looked over his shoulder at the five-year-old, "What is it, little one?"

Despite any efforts to prevent it, Luke had heard his father's cries. He nervously knitted his fingers together, "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan loosened his hand from the back of Anakin's head and held it out for the wide-eyed boy. Luke swallowed heavily as he walked up to take hold of it with his little hands. The Jedi's hand closed over both of his, "Your dad isn't feeling well right now."

His face filled with panic, "Is he sick?"

Obi-Wan felt the fists in the front of his shirt tighten. He didn't want to cause anymore upset, but he knew Anakin's policy on honesty, "He's soul-sick."

The bewilderment and worry on the child's face was palpable, "What's that mean?"

"He is very sad and very tired. We are going to go home early today. Is that okay?"

"Uh huh, get him to bed," Luke instructed resolutely. "He needs water and a anti-virus pill."

The smile couldn't be helped, "Thank you, Luke. We will see you tomorrow."

As his hands were released, Luke confidently declared, "I love you, Daddy."

Obi-Wan clenched his teeth at the resounding sobs the statement received. He leaned over to touch his hand to the top of Luke's head, "He loves you, too."

He turned back around and stooped down to weave his arm under cybernetic knees. He tightened the arm around Anakin's torso before pulling the taller man's thighs against his waist. With notable ease, he stood upright and tread to the passenger side of the landspeeder. He bent down and used the hand under Anakin's thigh to unlatch the door and step backwards until it was fully open. Flesh and leather-gloved hands plastered over tear-drenched eyes when he nestled the Tatooinian into the passenger seat. He withheld any comments as he stood and closed the door.

He didn't expect Luke to still be standing behind the speeder, restlessly wringing his hands, "Did I make him cry?"

He stooped down and settled a hand on a tiny shoulder, "No, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't feel well right now."

"It's 'cause I wanted to play in the sand, isn't it?"

His head shook avidly, "No, sand doesn't make him this upset. You didn't do anything wrong. He just needs to go home and sleep."

"Make sure he gets lots of sleep," the youngling implored.

"I will," he gently squeezed the younger Skywalker's shoulder.

Without asking permission or giving any warning at all, Luke flung his arms around the Jedi's neck. After only a couple seconds, he pulled back and ran along the driver's side of the speeder.

Obi-Wan only smiled.


	9. There's Still More To Give

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Seven (Part B): There's Still More To Give

Tsunami tears breaking over quivering lashes still highly affected him even after all these years. _You would think I'd be desensitized to it by this point._ One teardrop took him back to a time when he was not yet a Jedi Master and his little padawan was being mistreated by other younglings. Two teardrops took him back to when his padawan graduated to Jedi Knight and begged not to be moved out of the billet they shared. More than two teardrops reminded him of his friend's anguish when Shmi was lost. The only thing in the galaxy he was weaker for than tears was full-on sobbing. Anakin's sobs were like a baby's cry that shut down any logical reasoning and awakened the parental-like need to console. The nerve-frying whimpers and wails at the farm made him want to curl up with Anakin in the back of the landspeeder until the world died.

Every little sniffle tempted him to pull over as they drove home. He tried to tune out the heart-puncturing noises to get back to the house as quickly as possible. There, he could cool Anakin off and brew some dagoban bentaxne berry tea. The sooner he calmed the waters, the sooner he could unmask the trigger for this episode. Even when Anakin was younger, there would be a reason for his untoward words and actions. The triggers were usually based in reason but wrapped in irrational emotions and by the time the emotions swallowed the reason, he had a tendency to overreact or exaggerate things. Very few people were willing to try to peel back the emotions to get down to the logic behind his behavior. Anyone able to withstand his intensity knew to look for a crux. There was _always_ a trigger.

Obi-Wan would never forget about the holomessage he received right before he went into the Jedi Temple central security station to teach younglings the ins and outs of the Jedi recall signal. He didn't have time to watch the message beforehand and forgot about it by the time he was done. The entire rotation passed without him watching or responding to it. At sundown, he'd headed for his temporary living quarters in the Temple accommodation sector. As his front door came into view, a black-clothed blur pinned him against the wall.

-::-::-

 _Anakin's left forearm pressed horizontally against his chest, "Why did you ignore my fragging holomessage?"_

 _He pushed against the assaulting elbow and wrist to try to alleviate the pressure on his torso, "I…I wasn't ignoring it. I didn't even know it was from you. I forgot to open it. I was busy today."_

 _The pressure on his chest lightened as a couple of gloved fingers hoisted to eye-level, "You can't take two fucking minutes to respond to my message?"_

" _I didn't know you had sent it, I said," he clutched the upheld fingers. "I forgot about it."_

 _The digits yanked out of his grip and the arm on his chest dropped, "If you don't want to talk to me, tell me to my kriffing face."_

 _The blonde firmly gripped the taller man's shoulders, "What are you talking about? I was busy. I forgot. It was an accident. It wasn't some veiled message that I don't want to be friends." Distressed oceanic eyes magnetized towards the ground while an awkward silence choked the air between them. His fingers moved a couple inches down the Jedi Knight's arms, "What's wrong? Why are you so upset over this?"_

" _I'm not," Anakin stepped back in attempt to retreat._

 _Obi-Wan was quick to move with him, holding tight to his shoulders, "Yes, you are. You stalked me to my quarters, pinned me against a wall, and accused me of abandoning you."_ Oh! _A gentle finger hooked under his chin and lifted his head,_ " _You think I'm abandoning you because I forgot to answer a holomessage?"_

" _Well, when you say it like_ that _, I sound like a needy, insecure, obsessive psychopath," he swallowed heavily and again tried to turn out of the Jedi Master's hold._

 _The grip on his biceps became firmer, "I forgot to check it. That's all." He was promptly dragged toward the quarters he had been staking out for half an hour, "Come on. I think I have enough leftover game fowl for both of us."_

-::-::-

Obi-Wan was familiar with Anakin's triggers. Most of the time he was set off by fear. Fear of abandonment, fear of loss, fear of invalidation, fear of weakness. More often than not, he responded with anger. Through anger, he had strength: the destruction was turned outwards so it couldn't be turned inwards. It was a defense mechanism in its purest form. While his anger was almost always fueled by fear, his tears could be fueled by anything. Self-degradation, loneliness, sadness, pain, guilt, nostalgia, hopelessness...

 _Everything was maslas before he went off by himself. I heard him climb onto the hood of the speeder. He would have been facing us. Looking at us._ Obi-Wan sat for a moment with the sound of little snivels dancing around his head. _You're really good with him_. His head tilted uncertainly and he blinked in realization. _He said he wished he had my instincts. Does he think I'd be a better father than him? Or that he's a bad father? On the basis that I played in the sand with Luke longer than he did?_ His fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. _That doesn't seem like something he would fret over. Then again, I never thought he'd fret over his body and worth like he has these past months._

He was brought out of his deep rumination when mechno-fingers slowly inched up the passenger's door. Realizing the house was growing larger and larger on the horizon, he prepared himself for the oncoming chase. As soon as they came to a stop, Anakin flung the door open and jettisoned out of the vehicle. Obi-Wan managed to cut the engine but didn't get around to closing the driver's door as he scrambled after his fleeing housemate. He skipped almost all of the landing stairs and dived forward to latch onto a flailing cybernetic wrist, "What happened?"

The response seemed wholly disingenuous given the lack of eye contact and emotionless tone, "I needed to cry I guess. I don't know."

He delicately guided Anakin closer and settled his free hand on the Tatooinian's small waist, "After calling yourself filthy?" The straying teardrops that streaked down sun-dusted cheeks let him know how genuine the self-denigration at the salt flat was. "What went through your head while I was playing with Luke?"

Frantically flapping eyes sealed shut, "I'm not discussing this."

Obi-Wan's hand moved upwards, wisely sliding away from the man's waist before reassuringly squeezing, "You need-"

" _I'm not discussing this_! _Let go_ of my _Force-fucking_ wrist!" the younger Force-sensitive aggressively jerked his arm free.

Obi-Wan didn't want to let Anakin walk away with those cataract waterfalls cascading down his cheeks. The thought of the disgraced Jedi sitting alone, crying, _t_ _hinking he's filthy_ was unbearable _._ Obi-Wan knew, however, he had no say in the matter when he heard the extra bedroom door close. _I wish you wouldn't shut me out._ It took him a couple minutes to calm his erratic emotions enough to breathe normally again. He tried to find ho-hum tasks to distract himself with so he wouldn't commit an invasion of privacy and demand a therapy session. _Why can't you talk to me?_

He knew it was painful to be Anakin, there was no way it wasn't, but it was pretty damn painful to be on the receiving end of Anakin's suffering too. There were times when he would be shut out, insulted or screamed at, accused of doing or thinking something he didn't do or think. There were times when the emotional manipulation was relentless or when he was forced to sit and watch self-destruction so great that it was almost comical, like it couldn't happen in real life. It'd been this way long before any contact with the dark side, but since their reunion, all the agony, emotions, and destruction had only intensified. He knew the pain was so consuming that Anakin rarely thought or cared how it affected other people.

That's why he absorbed all the screams and insults and calmly challenged the false accusations and sometimes let himself be manipulated. That's why he did anything he could to heal the self-inflicted damage. That's why he didn't barge into that bedroom and say _Your pain is so great that it hurts me, too_. He would undoubtedly push back when pushed to the limit, but he'd act as a receptacle for every single hateful, expletive-heavy tantrum to ease some of the pain _._ It didn't matter what happened to him; he would always play this role. _Because I'll never get burned out on you, faneta._

Hours passed and Anakin still hadn't come out of the extra bedroom. Eventually the worry was too back-breaking to carry. Obi-Wan wasn't going to demand conversation, but he was going to make sure Anakin knew he cared. A couple silent moments passed after he knocked on the door. He wasn't sure his call was going to be answered when the door finally cracked open. The two tear-stained, bloodshot eyes that glowed like auroras from inside the pitch-black bedroom almost made him demand entry. It took every last bit of willpower to retain composure, "I wanted to check on you."

Tone and facial expression remained impassive, "I'm fine."

He tried not to show his disappointment at this aloofness, "Try to get some rest. Call for me if you need anything."

The younger man's soft, gruff voice stalled him when he turned to walk away, "Thanks for letting me cry on you today."

The slight tug at the corner of Anakin's lips gave him some amount of solace. He adopted a similar expression, "Anything to help."

::::

The next three weeks and four rotations proved to be a rather arduous state of affairs. Given how contentiously his questions were shut down after they dashed from the landspeeder, Obi-Wan knew better than to try to rehash the Filthy Fit. Be that as it may, his reticence didn't seem to stop his housemate from growing increasingly cynical and disengaged. Originally, any conversation that went beyond cordial pleasantries was brushed off. As the rotations swung by, Anakin grew more scornful. Obi-Wan couldn't identify what triggered the Filthy Fit or what perpetuated this ongoing irritable episode. He didn't want to ask too many questions and risk worse upset so for many rotations, he was in the dark.

The temptation to walk, run, and drink was strong as he tossed and turned in bed. He was even more tempted to grab his stubborn friend by the shoulders and demand what was wrong. _There has to be a way to approach this without setting him off again._

A rapid drumming unexpectedly vibrated against his eardrums. He tried to ignore it and continue simmering in his thoughts, but the relentless thudding persisted. Intending to silence the distracting noise, he annoyedly made his way into the sitting room. Somehow, he wasn't all that surprised to find Anakin sitting at the kitchen table, quickly tapping the edge of a spoon against its surface. The brunette's elbow was parked on the tabletop with his hand propped under his chin. He stared intently at the wall, paying no mind to the rapping utensil in his mechno-hand. It was clearly a mindless preoccupation.

Like so many times in the previous weeks, Obi-Wan tried to make conversation, "Bout of insomnia?" He received only a choleric _mhm_ and an echoing _tap, tap, tap_. "Have you tried any spiced tea?"

"No."

"Rbollean petal-oil?"

"No."

"W-"

"I'm trying to _think_ ," the unkind bark axed into any further suggestions. "The insomnia is welcome."

 _Sometimes the only way to love you is to tell you when enough is enough._ Obi-Wan impatiently streamed his fingers through his hair _,_ "Your attitude isn't welcome." The spoon stopped tapping. "For the past three weeks, you have been snappy and ill-mannered with me. I've tried to allow it while you come to terms with whatever you're facing, but you can't transfer your anger and upset from it onto me."

The ends of the spoon jangled against the table before it came to a rest. Anakin laced his fingers together and gritted his teeth. _It's not his fault he doesn't want an unfeeling miscreation that's been tainted by the darkness._ The last person that deserved his vitriol was the only person in his life who had ever truly understood and accepted him as he was. _Treat him with the respect he deserves, you prick._ He slowly turned apologetic eyes to the blonde, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan strutted to the oka-wood table, "Talk to me. There's nothing that can't be said between us. What's wrong?"

He had to turn away from the spine-tingling emeralds shining down on him. _What's wrong is I want to merge our energies. I want to say '_ _I love you' and have you say it back._ _I want to hear the moans your perfect lips would make when I massage pressure points on your feet._ _I want you to tell me I'm beautiful and desirable. I want to bathe every inch of you with my tongue. I want us to cuddle up so I can fall asleep to your heartbeat in my ear. I want to forge a soul bond between us. I want us to leave stupid, sickening, cutesy notes around for each other, fuck it all. I want us to live together in this house on this sand-infested planet with my children._

A torturous ache whipped around his chest. Burning guilt. Crushing shame. _Your wife appreciates you lusting after some man in her place. Your children are especially proud. Daddy killed Mommy so he could get fucked in the ass_. _You're a disgrace_. He knew he was dishonoring the memory of his wife and the last labor of her breath. If he truly loved her, his heart would have died with her and he wouldn't be able to even think about loving someone else. Yet here he was, craving his best friend and treating his children like ornaments to jazz up their nonexistent relationship. _You were a terrible husband and you're an even worse father. Why don't you tell Obi-Wan how much you hate your wife and children?_

His palms pressed into his eye sockets in an attempt to conceal his tears, " _Force-damn it_. I'm _lost_ and _incomplete_ and I feel like I'm searching for something I'll never find. I keep trying to fill this _void_ , but I can't. How can you fill the void when the only shit that gives you fulfillment is withheld? It's not on the radar, you'll never find it; _you're never going to have it_."

Obi-Wan blinked in disbelief before stooping down, "Remember when I told you I was having déjà vu from when you were a teenager? I'm _really_ having it now." He grasped one of the rungs on the back of Anakin's chair, "You've said that to me in a kitchen before. Different words, same sentiment. Do you remember what happened after you said it to me back then?" Mismatched hands apprehensively lowered from reddened eyes, "You grew into the most cocksure, self-reliant man in the galaxy. Within only a few months of you saying it, Drallig told you your animal totem was the jaguarete. For your peerless confidence and power, wasn't it?"

He laid his free hand on the nearest mechanical knee, "Despite what you feel at this moment, you will reclaim your fortitude and if you follow your past patterns, it will be stronger than before. Which, Force help us if you become more arrogant than before." He felt a small victory at the little smile he received. "I know you don't want to talk about what's bothering you, but you must remember you have an extraordinary soul that cannot be kept in the dark. Remember you can always look towards the light and find the way home."

"Do you remember how easy it used to be?" The uncertainty on Obi-Wan's face incited the specification, "Between us."

The uncertainty was still present though the Jedi smiled, "You have never made things easy, my dear padawan." The ashamed expression he witnessed prompted him to pinch the morose man's chin, "We will _always_ be best friends. Through lies and death and madness. All the awful things that have happened between us had to happen because we care about each other."

Cobalt eyes dropped, "Not at the end of..."

Obi-Wan gently trailed the back of his index finger across his friend's jaw, "I care about you and I had to stop you from doing awful things."

Anakin's voice was almost pleading, "You should have killed me."

His smile dwindled and his gaze grew stern, "The last thing Senator Amidala said was _T_ _here's still good in him_." He intently watched as the bleakness in Anakin's eyes transformed into incredulity and amazement. He tentatively laid his hand on a bony shoulder, "I knew that as well as she did which is why I couldn't…I would never be able to kill you. No matter what you do." _Living without you is the definition of purgatoric misery._ A miniscule grin stretched over his lips, "Maybe it hasn't been easy between us, but-"

"Enjoyable?" Anakin shyly murmured.

Obi-Wan's smile widened, "I should hope I remember enjoyable times between us. One occurred recently."

"Six years ago?" the Tatooinian half-heartedly jested.

"No, today." The blonde retracted his hands and stood up, "I'm going back to bed. I'd advise not to welcome your insomnia much longer."

"I'm not. I'm going to bed, too," the brunette stood to push his seat under the table, "goodnight."

Obi-Wan turned on his heel with a wave of the hand, "Goodnight, jaguarete."

Hands were on hips instantly, "Don't call me that."

The vexed insistence only received a laugh, "Why not? At least you have a nickname you know the meaning of."

 _I should have known he didn't buy that kindred spirit banthashit._

::::

Anakin jumped at the deafening explosion that shook the walls of the house.

Doses of panic raced through his mind like a meteor shower. _Obi-Wan definitely just walked out the front door._ He hurriedly sprinted up the stairs of the landing, smacked the panel to open the front door, and dashed into the hot desert day. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the blinding suns as he frantically looked around for the source of the blast. The anterior area of the house was as pristine as could be. He couldn't even find any footprints. He rocketed towards the rear of the house, fearful intruders had harmed or abducted Obi-Wan. As soon as he rounded the back corner, his hand slapped over his mouth in an attempt to hold back laughter.

The Jedi Master stood in stock-still shock with his hands held out defensively in front of his chest as water dripped from every inch of his thoroughly soaked person. Liquid leaked out the outlet of the busted pump at his feet, adding to an ever-growing pool in the sand.

The derision was evident in Anakin's voice, "What the _hell_ did you do? Did you close off the pump suction and discharge valves to see what would happen?" The fish-out-of-water look directed towards him only added to his mirth, "Did you just want to go swimming?"

Obi-Wan finally found his voice, "Oh, good, that's very good, stand there and laugh."

The snickering man walked behind the busted water pump to the lead pipes that ran up from the ground and mounted onto the back of the house. He twisted the wheel handle of the shut off valve so the water no longer poured forth onto the sand, still chortling, "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"The water pressure was dreadful and I-I… _I broke it. Are you happy_?" the older Forceful pushed his saturated hair back, causing water droplets to dart through the air. "I thought I could adjust it!"

Anakin roared with laughter as he sauntered across the wet sand to grab the sopping fabric over Obi-Wan's shoulders. He mockingly stuck his bottom lip out and spoke in his best baby voice, " _Oh_ , _amanica_ , why don't you ask me if you need help with _big bad_ technology?"

Obi-Wan repeatedly slapped his derisive friend's hands until they fell from his shoulders, "Don't talk to me in that voice! You're not the only person capable of fixing mechanical devices."

Anakin threw a glance over his shoulder and his voice raised in pitch, "The water pump begs to differ."

"You're insufferable!" The Stewjonian stepped forward and pointed down at the machine, "I can fix this." He then pointed at his ridiculer, " _You_ take your condescending self _inside_."

"Can you wait until I make a Tatooine Sunrise?"

" _Wait_?"

"To fix it," Anakin chuckled with a nod towards the pump.

Obi-Wan emphatically motioned between them, "Why do _you_ need an alcoholic beverage for _me_ to fix the water pump?"

He smiled from ear to ear, "So I will have something to drink while I watch you trash the rest of it."

" _Go away_ ," the fed-up Force-user sprang forward and clutched his shoulder to push him towards the side of the house.

He heartily laughed but did as he was told. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to fix the water pump as damaged as it was and couldn't help himself when he chided, "Yell at me before you damage it beyond repair!"

The waiting game began.

He didn't expect surrender within the first hour. His old master was much too stubborn to give up in such a short amount of time. He thought two hours might see the breaking point, more out of pure frustration than anything else, but two hours passed and the hard-headed Jedi still hadn't come for help. Between the heat, the frustration, and the time and energy being wasted, three hours would be the maximum.

::::

 _I don't even care! I will ignore anything he says to me!_ Obi-Wan stomped through the front door, soaked from head to toe in sweat, and held up a metallic, circular object. With his eyes narrowed and his muscles tight, he lowly demanded, "What is this?"

 _Three hours and three minutes. I_ _know you like the back of my hand_. Anakin's smile was toothy and unapologetic, "That's the impellor. And yes, it's definitely needed for the device to be operational."

The impellor was thrown in the smug man's direction, "Just go _fix it_!"

Obi-Wan headed towards the kitchen as Anakin basically skipped past him. He grabbed a towel to wipe off his face and neck before heading back into the sitting room to recline on the couch. He was somewhat irritated when his mechanically-inclined confidant returned completely dry no more than thirty-five minutes later and merrily announced, "It's fixed!" He tried to hold his tongue, but the gloating was ceaseless, "You always have to make sure the valves in the flow path are open while the drain and vent valves are closed. Not to mention-"

He sat straight-backed on the edge of the couch cushions with a glare, "I don't want to hear it."

His umbrage was only met with a smile, "You can shower now if you want."

"What _would_ I do without you?"

"Have unusable electrical devices."

That familiar little twitch of the mouth let Anakin know the eye-rolling indignation on display was superficial. He smiled with his teeth before turning towards the hallway. With his back turned, he missed the grin that stretched over Obi-Wan's lips. _I never could deny that beautiful smile_.

::::

He blinked the sleep from his eyes as that familiar green light and trumpeting sound flooded his room. He blindly reached to the bedside table to retrieve the comlink (a name he still didn't approve of for it) and didn't bother to sit up as he activated it. As soon as he saw his old padawan's little frame and colossal eyes, he unhappily grumbled, "You have got to work on your timing for these calls."

Ahsoka only laughed, "Sorry, Master, I will work on it. I have some skinny on Noxion a.k.a. Noxtalia and thought you might bite."

He was suddenly wide awake and moved to sit up, "With a locked jaw."

"What a shocker- she's a Nightsister." The Shilian held up her fingers one at a time with each characteristic named, "Hatred of Jedi, disregard for life, calculating, strange characteristics that make her fierce in a fight, disavows the planet she hails from. Personally, I think she sounds like a cliché. Not to mention she really has a hot vendetta for Obi-Wan and me after the rhumba in Theed, according to the rebel Organa drafted to eyeball her. I don't think she has any tips on us yet."

 _I'll slaughter her if she touches either one of you._ Anakin tried not to succumb to the animosity infecting his blood like sepsis. He tried not to focus on his gritting teeth, his labored breath, the pervading thoughts of disemboweling someone he'd never met. Indulging the instinctive rage and enmity he felt at his loved ones being threatened would only lead to mayhem. _Only a cool head will lead to real resolution, Anakin._ He took a couple deep breaths and tried to speak evenly, "Did you have much trouble with her?"

"She was brick solid. Obi-Wan outfoxed her, used me as a decoy. He held his own against her one-on-one after I split, but she was blued up. If she was hitting at full strength…" She shrugged unsurely, "Coin toss."

His voice came out almost robotically, "Work under the assumption she does have a lead on you. Keep tabs on your contacts and do your own mousing. Don't rely on Organa's subordinate. I'll tell Obi-Wan she has a hard-on for him."

"Yes, General," she smiled fondly with a salute.

He spoke sternly, "I mean it. Be careful, Ahsoka."

She nodded in reassurance, "I will be."

After the com-call ended, he threw back his coverlet and made his way to the other side of the house. Under any other circumstance, he would have felt bad to disturb his comrade from a sound sleep. _But I can admit the cool head thing isn't working out._ Obi-Wan had always been a light sleeper, so it was no surprise when the older man awoke the second he climbed onto the side of the bed. He was met with a slurred, somewhat panicked query, "What?"

"Snips comm-ed. She gave me the nitty-gritty on Darth Noxion. Another kesting Nightsister. She's out for blood after you beat her ass," he quickly divulged in his anxiety.

"Does she have-"

"Not yet."

"What about on-"

"Not on either one of you. According to _nameless rebel A_ Organa glued to her anyway," he censoriously sneered. "I told her to operate under the assumption there are leads and to do her own information gathering."

"Good," the blonde took a deep breath of relief but the sentiment was short-lived when he found a mixture of stark concern and fury on his friend's face. Ahsoka was valued as a little sister to Anakin and when his family was at risk, he had a tendency to jump the gun. Obi-Wan tried to offer reassurance to dispel any ill-advised thoughts, "She'll be fine. She's a warrior."

"I know. I can't let-"

His fingers curled around Anakin's forearm, "There's no need to worry. Go to sleep. It will be alright."

::::

For nearly two weeks, he dissected the information about Darth Noxion. Fire burned through every layer of his skin when he thought about someone actively trying to kill Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. Even more enraging was how blatantly the blame rested at his feet. If his son had not been in the courtyard, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka wouldn't have been there. If he hadn't been an absent father, his son wouldn't have been in the courtyard. If he hadn't betrayed his fellow Jedi and fallen to the dark side, he wouldn't have been an absent father. If he hadn't betrayed his fellow Jedi and fallen to the dark side, the galaxy wouldn't be under the Dark Lord's thumb and his loved ones wouldn't be hunted down like game.

He was the one responsible for all the darkness in the macrocosm and he needed to do something to banish it! He needed to do something to save his friends! Yet here he was- _doing nothing_!

Obi-Wan jolted from sleep for the second time in twelve rotations, "What is it?"

He wiggled about restlessly on the side of the bed, "We need to train with our lightsabers again."

"Okay," the Jedi said with no amount of certainty. Before fully consenting to this request, he wanted to know why the issue was imperative enough that it couldn't wait until morning.

Anakin sat on his knees, "Is that a yes?"

The older Forceful elevated onto his elbows to better meet expectant sky-blue eyes, "Are you saying this because of what Ahsoka told you?"

"This is something I want to do."

The deflection was easily spotted, but Obi-Wan didn't have reason to deny this request. He could only see benefits in reacquainting themselves with their lightsabers. It would be a healthy way to lose hours and should give Anakin a sense of security with Noxion on the prowl. It might even help the disgraced Jedi gain some confidence back. Considering the abysmal state of the younger man's self-perception, that would be a benefit welcomed with open arms.

As a child, Anakin's self-esteem was relatively stable. The only black area in that era was his prior slave status and Obi-Wan would have never even known about it if not for an incident with another youngling who insulted him over it. As soon as Obi-Wan told him the insult meant nothing, the self-doubt seemed to vanish. He didn't openly focus on his perceived worth for the remainder of his childhood.

As a preteen, when his abilities grew to exponentially exceed other padawans', his confidence ballooned and continued to do so into his teenage years. By age sixteen, his arrogance bordered narcissism. He never fished for compliments. He never searched for validation. He didn't second guess or hesitate in his speech or actions. He wasn't afraid to back-sass his instructors, the Council, Jedi Knights or Masters. In training, he was almost flawless. No challenger below the level of a master could best him in a spar and even a large number of masters ended up on the losing end of his lightsaber.

There'd been a hit to his confidence around his nineteenth birthday. Obi-Wan knew this was around the time Anakin and Senator Amidala began a relationship, so he long suspected Anakin had been influenced by uncertainty in the unexplored avenues of love. However, the dip in self-esteem only seemed to surface with Obi-Wan specifically, when they were alone. There was a good chance he felt guilty about keeping his romantic relationship a secret and his interactions with Obi-Wan altered as a result. However, his confidence resumed its unparalleled stoutness and their friendship returned to its normal state after about a year and a half from his nineteenth birthday. Obi-Wan still lacked any concrete explanations as to what had happened.

Anakin's confidence obviously augmented to nearly unmanageable proportions during the time of the Clone Wars. After all the years of surpassing his peers and bending situations to his mercy, he fell into the trap of thinking he was infallible. He thought he was capable of more, was smarter than, was stronger than, was more in control than, was better informed than. He thought he could break the hands of time, map the will of fate, program the individual. His delusion of indestructibility made him think he was more potent than the dark side. He would control the darkness, it would not control him. He would use it to achieve his ends and it would be his weapon, not his master. Anakin's arrogance was costlier than any amount of attachment or fear.

When they were reunited, it was blindly, painfully, obvious he'd learned the dark side's only master is wickedness. The dark side took his self-confidence. He now second guessed everything he said and did, hid his body, called himself deprecating names, thought Obi-Wan was going to leave him. He hadn't been wrong when he said he was no longer the same person he once was. Obi-Wan didn't love him any less, but if there was a way to take away the self-contempt and doubt the dark side had bestowed upon him, the Jedi would do it.

"Fine, we will train with our lightsabers again," Obi-Wan sleepily agreed. When Anakin remained sitting silently on the bed, staring at him, he inquired, "Is there something else?"

"After we've trained adequately, I want to join the rebellion."

 _Hold up._ He frozenly stared up at the brunette with knitted brows for a moment. Training with their lightsabers for self-defense in case the Sith came knocking at their door was one thing. Training with their lightsabers so Anakin could run off and fight the forces of evil was another. In his current state, Anakin cried at the thought of death and war. There was zero probability he would be able to handle real combat. The Jedi Master finally sat up and doubtfully queried, "Because Ahsoka told you information on Palpatine's apprentice? What _else_ did she say?"

The father of two shook his head, "This isn't about Ahsoka. I am the impetus for the oppression the galaxy lives under. It's my obligation to help defeat it."

Obi-Wan twisted his body around to look his friend head on, "You're not in the condition-"

The interjection was cantankerous, "I said I would properly train first."

"You have given _enough_ of your _body_ , _mind_ and _soul_ to war," he passionately reasoned.

Mechanical digits squeezed a flesh thigh, "There's still more to give."

The emotion in his voice was almost embarrassing in its intensity, "That doesn't mean it should be given." Anakin looked away without responding, but he did not accept this retreat, "Tell me, have you thought of your children during this extensive deliberation? Luke and Leia need you just as much as the galaxy needs you."

"Don't use my children as a fripping weapon," Anakin leaned forward onto his hands. Sapphire eyes connected intensely with malachite ones, "You have never taught me to hide in fear like an insect and I don't know why you're trying to threaten me to do it now, but _we_ can't stay hidden in this damn house forever."

He pushed his way off the bed with the clear intent of ending the conversation. Obi-Wan, however, was not finished. He tossed back the coverlet and bounced off the bed to trail after Anakin through the sitting room, "There's a difference in being cowardly and being cautious. You can't wake up one night and decide you're going to be better by some arbitrary date so you can join a war."

 _He knows you will fall again._ The disgraced Jedi swept around to wrathfully challenge, "What do you mean _better_?"

Obi-Wan rose to the challenge, " _You know what I mean_. Your mind and body are still recovering from your clash with the dark side. You can't _up and_ _decide_ you don't have afflictions anymore because you don't like there's a Nightsister sniffing around for Ahsoka and me."

Anakin raised his hands on either side of his head in frustration, "Have you listened to anything-"

" _Or_ because you shoulder self-condemnation for what happened when you were twenty-three."

"You think I will fall again."

The disavowal was vehement, " _No_ , I didn't say that. I said you are still afflicted and you need to take care of yourself so you can take care of your children."

Anakin furiously kicked the coffee table, causing it to screech across the flextile, as he thundered, "Funny you would want me to take care of a child considering you think I karking am one!"

Obi-Wan could only watch and listen as the the enraged man marched away and closed the door to the extra bedroom. He couldn't find it within himself to do anything except sit down on the couch with his head in his hands. _I need a drink_.

::::

Instead of downing a bottle of red dwarf, he decided to comm Ahsoka. He needed to know what put Anakin on this mental trajectory in order to better reason against it. _This idea of endangering himself as atonement must be cut out at the root_. The rebels would attack or cower at the sight of him. The Empire and Sith would have an easier time finding him. All the while he would be fighting the shadows in his own head. _His priorities should be the people that need him, not how to get himself killed._

There were a few things about Anakin that could really get under Obi-Wan's skin. That snotty, taunting tone he sometimes used, beating a dead horse until it was dust, the way he left oil under his fingernails after he worked with machinery, his inability to fold clothes correctly, how he thought he psychically knew what other people were thinking. None of this ever garnered a response from Obi-Wan. Even if these little things annoyed him, they are what helped shape the man he idolized. But there were two terrible things in Anakin's personality he wished he could tear out and never give back: self-deprecation and self-destruction.

Anakin had always been destructive. He'd always cursed, punched, screamed, broken furniture, broken bones, broken dishware, insulted, interrogated, demanded. He flew too fast, spent too much on mechanical equipment, engaged in unnecessary yelling matches with his peers, often pushed the few relationships he had to their breaking points, punched holes into walls, drank until he couldn't stand up. He always wanted more out of people than what people were willing to give him and he usually lashed out against them when they let him down. Even worse, he thought people deserved more than they settled for and when they sold themselves short, he didn't know how to express his disappointment and anger in any other method than destruction.

Anakin was aware of his (self-)destructiveness. He sometimes expressed regret for his actions but would tack on that he couldn't help himself. Once when Obi-Wan asked why he couldn't, he'd said, "The heart of my soul hurts too much. Distraction is my salvation." The quest to soothe a lifelong pain that had no true origin was constant. Obi-Wan supposed the Force always knew he was to swing like a perpetual-motion pendulum between the light and dark realms of existence. It needed to prepare him for the agony in some way. Although it was difficult to admit, the light and darkness were not finished battling for him yet. If anything, the phenomenal agony he was in now, with the self-deprecating pain that fed his self-destructive impulses daily, indicated his most perilous fight was yet to come.

After a few moments, Ahsoka received the call and her voice burst through the speaker of the wrist comlink, "Jabber if you must."

"Ahsoka, it's Obi-Wan."

There was some amount of ambient noise and static mixed in with her voice, "Hey, I haven't spoken to you in a saros cycle. How are you doing?"

"Fine." He hoisted the long-range device closer to his mouth, "Do excuse me if this comes off rude, but what the osik have you said to Anakin?"

Her voice was riddled with puzzlement, "What do you mean? You mean on our last call?"

"Yes."

She thoughtfully recalled, "I told him some skinny on Darth Noxion. She- actually I'm assuming he gave you the run-down?"

"Yes," he sighed.

"I gave him background on her. I warned him she's on a fishing expedition for you and me." There was a slight pause, "Why?"

Another exhausted sigh escaped the back of his throat, "You didn't say _anything_ else?"

The static in the connection caused breaks in her laughter, "Like what?"

He tried not to lead the witness, "Like, about the rebellion…"

"I've told him about the rebellion in past calls but not on this most recent one." Obi-Wan barely finished his third protracted sigh when the little Forceful demanded, "What's going on?"

"Anakin told me he wanted to pick up on our lightsabers again. He proceeded to tell me he is going to leave after he quote, unquote properly trains and join the rebellion. He said he is accountable for the rise of the Empire and must rectify this wrong." When this explanation only obtained a hefty silence, he prompted, "Did anything you two discussed indicate he was thinking all this?"

"Not at all," she earnestly denied, "I mean _at all._ "

"I'm trying to figure out what's brought all this on." The frustration in his voice was evident, "Asking him would be quite fruitless."

"Is he ignoring you or something?"

" _Kicking the coffee table and storming away while we're talking_ is how I would define it."

"I assume that means you told him it's a bad idea." She inhaled sharply before complaining through a groan, "It _is_ a bad idea. He's in no condition… If I can see it, I know you can, too. He's in pain and _mega_ _hyper_ sensitive. There's no way he would be able to handle an assignment. It kills me to say it, but he's not the undefeatable force of nature he was before we lost him to the dark side."

The volume of Obi-Wan's voice dropped, "Every single inch of him was broken down so he could be rebuilt as a soldier of darkness. When the light side pasted him back together, it may not have had all the pieces."

There was poorly-hidden shock in her voice, "Are you saying he's unstable?"

His voice became even softer, "I'm saying that his energy is sometimes a wreck, his temper has gotten worse, he's more sensitive than he used to be, and he's lost his strong sense of self." He sadly smiled to himself, "He's not necessarily unstable, he's just a little different than he used to be."

"You're saying he's not getting better," she sadly evaluated.

"Although he does go backwards every now and again, he's getting better little by little. He will always have me to lean on if he needs to. I know he's dealing with a lot."

He could hear the smile in her voice, "You still have that famous patience in dealing with him."

Strangely, this conversation wasn't the first time someone asked Obi-Wan if he thought Anakin was unstable. Many people approached him through the years to give him "warnings _._ " _Y_ _ou're wasting your time, h_ _e's out of control, something's not right about that kid, he talks back to his instructors and insults other padawans, why haven't you sent him back to Tatooine, he can't take simple direction, he's too close to Amidala, you can't trust someone like that, he's totally rude, his temper is dangerous._ Nobody could seem to understand why he afforded his time and patience to such an unmanageable renegade. It didn't matter how unreasonable, wild, or violent Anakin got, he would always be there to fend off the detractors.

There'd been one person who tried to tell him they thought Anakin was mentally ill. It was the only time in his life that he cursed someone out. Yes, Anakin's emotions were intense and unpredictable. Yes, he had a tongue that could break bone. Yes, he was unafraid to use his fists, regularly question authority, and act on impulse. All that meant to Obi-Wan was he lived to the beat of a different drummer. _He isn't mentally ill; he's eccentric!_ There'd never been anything wrong with Anakin until the last five years and that was only because he clawed his way back from the dark side.

The people so eager to dole out warnings and criticisms were clueless. They thought they were going to swoop in and save Obi-Wan when in truth, Anakin was the only safe haven he knew. The immense intensity, the investment in relationships, the willingness to challenge anyone to an argument, the constant, unrepentant shows of emotion- the detractors labeled these traits personality flaws, but these traits were what he adored. He didn't want to alter Anakin's uniqueness; he wanted to preserve it. Each condemnation only made him more protective.

The sad smile on Obi-Wan's lips transformed into a fond one, "He has always been on his own time and very volatile all the while. I'm accustomed to it. Thanks for talking with me."

"No sweat. Are you going to bolt down the furniture?"

He tiredly laughed, "He usually remembers how childish it is to kick and throw things. I'm sure he will stop that nonsense when he sees it gets him nowhere but in my bad graces. If he doesn't stop, I will tell him to."

She asked with palpable humor, "Would that actually work?"

"Yes," he smiled, "he does not like to be in my bad graces for too long."

The Togrutan's laugh was caked in static, "Comm me back up if you need anything."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Ahsoka."

"Catch you in the chaos!"

::::

It made him want to scream and yank his hair out. _Why are you always right?_

He was unsure when, if ever, he would regain the physical strength and the aptitudes he once had with the Force and his lightsaber. If he was going to join the rebellion, the chance for failure must be next to zero. In spite of anything Obi-Wan thought, he wanted to do this _for_ his children. He didn't want to abandon them or leave them fatherless. He wanted to liberate them of the Sith and Empire.

Although Obi-Wan denied saying he would fall again, the Jedi did say he was still afflicted and recovering his mind. At first, he was fuming at the underhanded insults, but it didn't take too long to realize the objectiveness in the observations. If he tried to speed along his recovery so he could join the rebellion, there was the high probability of him falling again. His mind would have to be as strong as his body and abilities or the chance for failure would be as likely as going out to fight Sidious with a broken leg. That meant for the foreseeable future, he was to remain here in this house. He turned out of the hallway into the sitting room and saw Obi-Wan stirring a pot of something in the kitchen. _And while you're in this house you need to stop treating the man you love like a Heap Nine garbage pile_.

Obi-Wan deserved the planetary rings of Tof. He was gentle and wise, never asked for anything or demanded Anakin behave differently. His smile could melt the core of any planet and his wit and perception were sharper than any bird's talons. His vocal chords were like perfectly-tuned joy-harp strings, creating heavenly tones every time they were plucked. He was logical, helpful, supportive, would listen all night long when you needed to talk. He quite frankly babied Anakin and how was he repaid? He certainly wasn't given the planetary rings of Tof.

Anakin was a bitter pill at best. Obi-Wan put up with a lot of abuse from him and it wasn't fair. During confrontations between them, he knew in the back of his mind he was being unreasonable. He knew he blew things out of proportion and cursed too much and acted plain mean, but while it was occurring, he couldn't stop himself. Somewhere in his head he'd be saying _Stop, Anakin, stop, stop, stop!_ but his mouth would keep motoring along. He constantly tried to scale back his mouth and temper. Every morning, he'd tell himself _Starting today, I'm not going to act like that anymore,_ but old habits are hard to break and he'd always end up as uncivil as he was the rotation before. Maybe he had poor impulse control. He was probably just a bad person. All he knew was he didn't deserve Obi-Wan in his life.

"Do you want any tea?"

He bit his lip and shook his head.

"I'll pour you a cup in case you change your mind."

He smiled.

Obi-Wan sat down at the kitchen table with two cups of tea in hand and pushed one of the cups to the other side of the table, wordlessly inviting him to sit. He decided to take the seat though he didn't drink the tea. Jade jewels reflecting sunlight caught his stare and he couldn't look anywhere else. He didn't deserve to have this extraordinary man's camaraderie and acts of kindness. He didn't merit all the forgiveness and understanding. _But I want you so bad._ His Living Force instinctually reached out for the Living Force across the table. It had been two rotations without their regular meditation and he craved Obi-Wan's energy like glitterstim. He wanted to warm this encircling coldness that embraced his energy and put the anemic exhaustion from longing and desperation to bed. Being this close, staring into those heart-stealing eyes, being so totally focused on Obi-Wan...somehow, he couldn't care right now that he didn't deserve their friendship. He finally pushed the tea aside, "Will you meditate with me?"

There was no hesitation, "Yes."

Anakin raised from his seat and moved around the table. He took hold of Obi-Wan's hands and already his blood was singing. He guided the blonde from the seat to the floor.

Used to the strange locations of their meditations, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor directly in front of Anakin. He'd silently pleaded with the Force for mitigation for the past two rotations. The first night they went without meditating together, he felt like a book that had its text erased. By the second night, he was ready to beg for the blank spaces of his energy and soul to be filled. He managed to stop himself from going to Anakin, but he certainly, desperately hoped his fellow Forceful would long for their bond as fiercely as he did and put an end to the torture.

The hold on his hands was firm as he began the usual recitations. As soon as a bond was opened, their Living Forces wildly, hungrily branched towards one another. The energies crashed together in a desperate embrace, twisting and twining in utter relief to be reunited. They both felt like they were receiving cardiopulmonary resuscitation. _I can finally breathe again_.

Obi-Wan wished he could sit on that hard floor with flesh fingers curling around his right hand and metal fingers curling around his left hand while Anakin's Living Force was interlocked with his for the rest of eternity. The looming misery waiting for them on the other side of that bond was nothing less than total tragedy. He didn't want the distance that was growing between them to return. He didn't want Anakin to leave him empty and cold again. _I just want to be with you like this, close and loving you in any way you'll allow._ But rationality trumped harmony. If he must sacrifice harmony between them to properly care for Anakin, he would do so. _I will do anything to keep you safe._

In a similar vein, Anakin wanted the hands in his to glide over every plane and angle of his body. He knew he'd lost control of his thoughts lately, but their bond, proximity, and contact made him hone in on less than honorable thoughts. Since the very first time they'd ever opened a bond back when he was a teenager, Obi-Wan's energy set him on fire. He always felt overheated and shivers would shake his body until his muscles were strung like tightwire. _I love you so much. Don't make me let go of you._

After a couple hours, Obi-Wan felt the weakening energy flow and started to pull back from the bond. Once it was finally disconnected and their energies were only left with aftertastes of one another's, they still shared the exact same feeling.

Neither spoke of their emptiness.

They got off the floor, finished drinking their cold tea in silence, and went to their separate bedrooms.


	10. I Can't Lose You Again

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Eight: I Can't Lose You Again

Nothing of note had taken place. Anakin woke up on pins and needles so severe they spent the majority of the rotation meditating together. When evening arrived, they threw together a bland supper and ate it unhurriedly. Conversation was exceedingly limited and ended with Obi-Wan insisting _You need a good night's rest_. They slept soundly in their separate beds when it happened. He didn't know why the darkness came biting at his heels again, today out of any other day. It could have been the separation from his children. It could have been the inability to temper his fitful energy. It could have been the heart-gnawing distance growing between him and Obi-Wan. Whatever the reason, Anakin suffered a grisly, revolting nightmare. It was the strain of nightmare he hadn't suffered in many moons. One that generated physical distress.

His flesh blistered from the heat of the fiery pit and skinless bodies gamboled over each other into the flames before his eyes. His arms were cut from his body. Blood spewed like geysers and gory strokes painted black sand as he tumbled, tumbled, tumbled towards the inferno…

The mind-bending pain upon his awakening was foreign. No longer accustomed to the excruciating pressure steamrolling against his every nerve, he mightily bit back the cries of agonized discomfort threatening to spill from his lips. He held true even as the pressure pointedly agitated over his ribs, spine, and chest. But when the skin over his ribcage ruptured and cleaved open a near bone-deep fissure, he couldn't hold back his thunderous shriek.

Before another fissure hewed into his skin, his alarmed housemate unceremoniously busted through his bedroom door. He lay shirtless and shivering in sweat, with his hands closely hovering over his midsection but not making contact. Obi-Wan zeroed in on the imbrued, gaping gash and all inquiries were withheld as he leapt into immediate action. He plucked a newly washed tunic from the storage closet as he dashed across the room and leaned over the side of the bed to compress it over the sizable wound. By this time, the pressure was increasing against Anakin's lower spine and he was sure it was going to cause more damage. Despite the incandescent red rimming his teary cerulean irises, Obi-Wan was able to decipher every thought and fear his anguished eyes were trying to convey.

The Jedi cautiously placed his free hand over the afflicted man's forehead, "Close your eyes." Once the instruction was followed he steadily recited, "Let the light which shines from within, flow forth and never hide. Light within the soul, flower and let us whole. Let the light ever present and ever radiant, heal all existent ache." He interrupted himself on the third run-through, "Say it with me, Anakin."

They repeated the incantation in unison. After a few more times of chanting these Force-entreating words, the extensive pain encompassing Anakin's body significantly subsided and he thankfully did not endure any more dermal ruptures. Ragged breaths rushed through his chapped lips and his throat felt drier than the Desert of Simoom. His skin and hair were laminated in sweat and the crimson rings around his irises faded, though the whites of his eyes were now bloodshot. Wettened, bleary eyelids flapped like wings of a frightened bird as he croaked, "Obi-Wan?"

"I'm here," the concerned Forceful reassured softly. He affectionately pushed soaked strands of hair off Anakin's forehead, "This is what you were trying to tell me before, wasn't it?"

"The-the…this _pressure_ ," the disoriented Force-sensitive gutturally mumbled, his eyelids now heavy with the calming touch on him, "builds up. Then my skin…splits…I don't know why. Punishment, probably."

The Stewjonian could only focus on the second to last word spoken, "Punishment for what?"

The offhand, miserable smile seemed out of place, "For all the torment and death I've caused in… in this lifetime. I deserve it. I deserve _nothing_ but pain. If breathing is anything less than…than punishment for me, I shouldn't breathe."

The sorrow that settled in Obi-Wan's heart stole any reply. Instead, he removed the soiled tunic and haphazardly tossed it to the ground behind him. His hand poised above the bloody wound and all his attention centralized on healing the deep laceration, "Force, be about…restore… heal tissue…mend flesh…beyond all pain…renew..."

A blue-white glow illuminated the dimly lit room when the concentrated energy passed from his hand through the open space to Anakin's torso. Tissue, muscle, and flesh sluggishly stitched itself back together as the gleaming energy fused into the open fissure. He found his voice when the only irregularity remaining was dollops of blood where the wound had been, "You know what my punishment is?" This query only earned a timid glance. "Witnessing you suffer like this."

He didn't intend to say anything else as he stood to find a change of bedclothes and something to clean the leftover blood from Anakin's skin, but clammy fingers gingerly arrested his. He turned back towards the bed, rotating his hand to puzzle their fingers together, and gripped the coarseweave sheets with his opposite hand.

"What could you possibly be punished for?"

He kneeled down beside the low-standing bed and rested his elbows on its edge, "For cheating you." The thunderstruck stare he received prompted him to rub featherlight circles into the brunette's palm with his thumb, "I set you up for failure from the moment you came to the Temple. I was too lenient and didn't provide enough direction to you. It made you susceptible to peril. Everything you've done, everything you suffer, I share in the accountability."

"No, you don't," Anakin breathlessly laughed. "The decisions I've made and the suffering I face in turn are…are _my_ albatrosses, _n_ _o one_ else's, _especially_ not yours."

"After I left you on that bank, there were a thousand conversations we'd had that went through my mind. Countless times when I said something hurtful or gave you the wrong advice or walked away without saying anything at all."

"I wasn't exactly a piece of sweetcake, Obi-Wan. Neither one of us can pretend I was easy to talk to. You did the best you could and…I _know_ that. I could have…have _never_ been _anyone_ else's padawan. _Only you_ had the brass to take me on. _You know that,_ " the Tatooinian laboriously insisted.

"Just because you were a holy terror doesn't mean I did you justice. If I did, you would have comprehended it's not that you weren't allowed to have emotions or feelings, it's what you chose to do with them that mattered."

The declaration was met with a bitter bite, "You made it _very clear_ Jedi and attachment don't coalesce."

"Yet you chose to have a relationship with Senator Amidala. You fathered children. You are as close to Ahsoka as a brother." _And you're scolding him for something you too are guilty of. Stop taking the easy way out._ It was a split decision. The scolding was used as a transition to confess a secret that had been eating away at Obi-Wan like a cancer for nine years, "Perhaps if I was truly absent of attachments, I could have accurately impressed the significance of the matter upon you."

"Truly been absent of attachments?" The incredulous statement preceded a lightning strike epiphany. _No._ Resentment caked Anakin's bones like sludge and his voice crawled out in snappish rasps, "You are saying…you're saying you _weren't_? Is that what you're saying? Attachment to who? _To who_? _Tell me who._ " The speculation slipped out without much consideration, "To Satine Kryze?"

"At one time-"

He tempestuously interrupted, "You told me you-you harbored feelings for her. So, when you said _harbored feelings_ , you meant…it wasn't some petty crush…you meant you were _in love with her_?"

"At one time I-"

His voice cut in with thick animosity and accusation, "You _lied to me._ You told me you only understood to a _small_ degree, you said you… _harbored feelings_. You made it sound like it was casual or cursory or _meaningless_. You didn't say you were _attached_ and… _in love with_ her, that you could… _completely understand_ what I was going through."

"I didn't want you to make choices based on ones I had made. I-"

"So, you thought telling me how to-to act…instead of telling me how _fucking normal_ what I felt was _was_ _better_? I felt like…a _failure_. I felt like a disappointment, _an embarrassment,_ to you, to the Council, the Order, to the _light side of the Force_ ," Anakin weakly tried to free his hand.

"I _never_ meant for you to feel that way." The Jedi Master felt his next words were necessary for clarity, "I didn't leave the Order for Satine, but I would have if she had asked me to. That was only because-"

Anakin was unable to handle the enviousness meandering through the ventricles of his heart, "I married Padmé."

" _What_?"

Satisfied with the shocked mien, unnerved eyes, and loosened grip the admittance brought, he continued, "We were husband and wife when we conceived the twins."

The shock was visible, "But-but-you-you were still-"

"That's right. I remained a Jedi after we got married. Now I know how much you kept from me…I don't feel guilty I kept it from you."

Both of Obi-Wan's hands cocooned around the younger man's flesh one as he sat on the side of the bed. He managed to regain enough of his composure to softly speak, "Even if what I've told you tonight has diminished your trust in me, I will everlastingly trust in you. That's why if you stop interrupting me I can tell you that at one time I thought Satine was my only attachment. She wasn't."

Anakin only gave an offended glance before focusing on the far wall. However, tender fingertips led his face back around by the jaw and he was awarded with a surprise as soon as his eyes found Obi-Wan's, "You are very precious to me and always have been. You can't fathom how vitally attached I am to you."

With two short sentences, any fury and jealousy were swept away. His heart felt like it was jumping and he was consumed by a soul-numbing elation he'd never known. He waited two decades to hear those words and didn't have to think twice before avidly proclaiming, "I'm attached to you, too."

The long-repressed declaration of love recklessly teetered on the tip of his tongue. It would be so easy to take the leap to the next, close-by step and admit to the permanent occupation Obi-Wan had in his mind and heart. But as he opened his mouth, he swallowed the words on his tongue. _You are my brother._ There was no doubt this attachment was familial given the claims Obi-Wan made over the years. Although the declaration of love would always be caught between his teeth, the sweetly-worded admittance to their brotherly bond was enough. _I'm not just your responsibility; you truly care about me._

Obi-Wan gently smiled, "I know." He waved his hand towards Anakin's ribcage, "Let's get this blood cleared away."

::::

Anakin couldn't stop milling around the hard-line orbit he'd managed to get himself sucked into. He couldn't tell if time was elapsing faster than it used to or if his mind was cycling faster than it normally did. Whether his eyes were open or closed, whether he was alone or with Obi-Wan, racing thoughts scattered around his brain until his defenses were exhausted. It wasn't bodily ramifications that concerned him. It was the crucifixion of his anima that invited crippling fear into his already manic head space. The more he tried to combat the malignancy seeping from the lobes of his brain, the more hysterical his thoughts became. He refused to sleep and welcome another nightmare that played out his most gruesome ideations. Staying awake felt like wooden stakes were being hammered into his heart and brain, but the horror that came to him while he slumbered hammered a stake into his soul. It drew him closer to darkness.

It was the third night without any sleep. The morning after the Attachment Affair, he plainly admitted to Obi-Wan he hadn't slept a wink. It wasn't so blatantly stated after the second night, but his sluggish movements and incoherent topics of conversation were clear indicators of another sleepless night. His slow movements, bloodshot eyes, constant yawns, and occasional nod-offs had Obi-Wan following him around the house by the third evening. It was a little after midnight when he was found face-first against the far wall in the extra bedroom, talking to himself.

 _This can't continue._ Obi-Wan worriedly shook his head and made his way across the room to clasp his friend's shoulders. The brunette measurably flinched at the unexpected contact, almost knocking the back of his head into the blonde's face. Obi-Wan's reflexes were luckily not suffering from lack of sleep and he was able to crane his neck back to avoid collision. He carefully moved them a couple steps back and turned the sleep-deprived Tatooinian around by the shoulders, "Why don't you lay down?" When his suggestion went unacknowledged, he fretfully sighed, "You need to sleep."

One, two, three tears slithered down scarred cheeks and caused the same effect they always did. Obi-Wan desperately drew Anakin against his chest, "Let's go over to the bed and lay down."

Anakin attempted to explain his dilemma when their short embrace ended, "I keep trying-"

"I know, Anakin." Obi-Wan slowly led his housemate across the room and climbed onto the bed. He propped himself up on his elbow as he laid down and squeezed the mechanical hand in his, "I swear on all things good in this galaxy I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Come on." He lightly tugged on their connected hands, but the metal digits interlocked with his withdrew. His open invitation was ignored when Anakin rotated and stiffly laid on the outer edge of the bed, facing away from him. He couldn't suppress an eye roll before tugging the stubborn Forceful's back against his chest in a caring embrace. One of his arms slithered between his friend's waist and the bed as his opposite hand settled on a thin arm, directly above the elbow. Right when he thought Anakin seemed to settle in, an unexpected groan of discomfort put him on full alert, "What's wrong?"

The response was quivering in anxiety, "It's trying to ensnare me."

His hand weaved into honey curls to begin massaging the back of Anakin's head _,_ "That's because you haven't been taking care of yourself. It senses you are weakened in this state. Rest. If that doesn't stop the darkness cold, we will take other measures."

The panic seemed to increase, "You'll leave me."

"I won't."

"As soon as I fall asleep-"

"I won't leave," his fingers momentarily stopped moving, "I will be right beside you when you wake up."

"I feel like it's tearing my soul out," the disgraced Jedi whimpered. "It's _tearing_ and _tearing_ and taking my arm and I'm _bleeding_. I need you to, Obi-Wan. I need you to. Stop my heart if it happens again."

"No," he leaned his forehead against the back of his friend's head.

"Promise this one thing."

"The only thing I will promise tonight is to lay in this bed with you." He resumed the massage against the brunette's scalp, "Sleep."

Anakin conked out quicker than expected. The need for sleep eclipsed the emotional chaos and Obi-Wan knew the latter would be eased once the former was achieved. Although he promised to stay in the bed through the night, he supposed he should scuttle back a few inches. Anakin was basically zombified from lack of sleep and he pulled the man into bed with him. It was an incredible abuse of trust, he determined. He decided to wait a couple more minutes to ensure a deep sleep took hold then he would untangle himself from their embrace and move over a bit. For now, he straightened his neck so his forehead was no longer touching the back of butterscotch brown locks. _Even if it's wrong, I wish I could be this close to you every night._ _Rest well, my dear._ He closed his eyes and started counting.

In his calm state, without intention, he could smell Bassel sea salt and oil. _If I was given one opportunity to touch you the way I want to, I swear I'd satisfy you._ His hand slapped harshly against the side of his head. _How heartless am I?_ His dear friend was _suffering_ and he was thinking of _sex_. He knew the thought only popped into his head because of how close he was to Anakin. How he could smell Anakin. How he was touching Anakin. _That doesn't make it right! Or logical!_ His attraction was _not_ returned. He was an older brotherly or fatherly figure since time immemorial and it would naturally be impossible for his old padawan to see him in any other light. Even if by some divine work of the cosmos their wholly platonic relationship could be overlooked, Anakin's _sole_ relationship had been a heterosexual one. _I don't exactly fit the profile of female._ The only reason he'd been allowed the closeness they'd shared in the last few months was because of a five-year long dark side demolition and the loneliness that came with the death of a spouse. _Besides, Anakin is so direct there's no way he wouldn't tell me if he felt something like that._

Despite his hunger for the rare creature in his arms, he wasn't going to throw respect and boundaries out the window. He gently detangled his hand from Anakin's hair and rested it against the base of the man's neck. Again, he closed his eyes and started counting. The thought came from the ether. _You'd always come before me_. His eyes snapped open and he gazed through the night at the back of Anakin's neck and protruding shoulder. _I'd memorize every curve of you._ _I'd lick your hipbones and tease your elegant neck and k_ _iss your lips until they were blood red. I'd sew a crown of kisses around every base module of your cybernetic attachments._ _Force, I'd make you moan._

He straightened his trapped arm and rolled flat on his back. His breaths were deep as he gradually scooted across the bed to slide his arm from underneath Anakin's waist. Once he was completely detached from the other man, he closed his eyes and scolded himself under his breath, "I can't do this." He couldn't let his emotions and hormones get in the way of morality and his duties to his best friend. He longingly looked over at Anakin and reached his hand out to brush his fingertips against a pointed shoulder blade. His whispering voice was riddled with defeat, "I'm sorry I'm weak in the flesh. I love you."

With his hand on Anakin's shoulder blade and an arm's length of distance between them, he finally fell asleep.

::::

Since the Sleepless Show, he truly gave a valiant effort to sleep regularly. A lack of sleep clearly left him more open to the dark side, but he'd still find himself tossing and turning for hours at a time each night, skirting around slumberland like it was after his children. His mind suffered from constant, breakneck-speed motion. His nights always started with the same damn thought. _The darkness smiles at me._ It was in his dreams, in his body, in his behavior, in the air, in the water, in the sand, in his bowls of cream of womprat soup. The darkness infected every facet of existence. It beckoned to him every morning, every evening. The only time he was given any relief was when he meditated with Obi-Wan, but as soon as their meditations ended, the infection would flare up again.

Being with Obi-Wan sans meditation had become painful. All he would be able to think about was how much he wanted his long-time friend, which in turn invited the temptation of the darkness. Padmé's face would stitch into the back of his eyelids and that poisonous voice would hiss into his ears _So easily you bury the mother of your children._ Then, as soon as a mental vigil would commence for his wife, he'd be reminded _This is a common fate._ The dark side would only reel him in if he acted on his feelings and the evil that would be reawakened inside him would take Obi-Wan like it took Padmé. He already killed one pure soul he loved; he couldn't bear to kill another.

He kicked his coverlet off for the fourth time that night.

"Why do I do this to myself?"

He rolled onto his side.

"Obi-Wan didn't love me even when I wasn't a complete waste of space."

His thoughts' constant law of motion didn't slow.

::::

The quarrel had only been going on about ten minutes and it was already about to bring the house down. It was heated right off the bat since the bone of contention involved one of them being placed on a blind collision course with Empire forces. It was unsurprisingly Anakin who was volunteering for the low-info mission and Obi-Wan was having _none of it_.

During routine surveillance of the amplitude modulation frequencies, Ahsoka intercepted a transmission from Mustafar. It appeared Empire Inquisitors were planning to abduct Force-sensitive younglings, but there wasn't much information beyond that. The mission would be shooting into the dark at best and while such a thing would have never been a concern in the past, Anakin was not the same person he once was. Though his condition managed to slightly improve since his and Obi-Wan's reunification, there was still no possible chance he could handle an environment where he wouldn't be able to retreat and may have to kill.

Anakin, as Obi-Wan put it, was trying to prove his worth by volunteering his services to Ahsoka, who astonishingly told him she would only give him the instructions for the assignment if Obi-Wan personally comm-ed her and approved. However, his worth was immeasurable to his best friend, who wasn't going to approve of him rushing headfirst into battle when he was still stricken with so much mental and physical malaise.

He stopped mid-pace on the far side of the sitting room and knotted his fingers in his hair, "You never want me to leave this house!"

The Jedi merely raised an eyebrow, "That's a bit dramatic."

"I can't stay here and pretend the galaxy's soul isn't in need of reclamation!"

Obi-Wan knew there was no argument that would make him comm up Ahsoka with his approval so he opted to play on the most prominent weakness he could to end the row. It was dirty, but he'd never liked _real_ arguments between them, "Why can't you stay here and pretend you have children to raise?"

Anakin saw the manipulation from space, "Rot, will you leave my kids out of it for fucking once?"

"I'm _sorry_ ," the sarcastic apology, arched brow, and crossed arms made Obi-Wan all the more maddening, "but _somebody_ has to think about them once in a while."

Radio silence at first. Then, a resounding crash reverberated through the house as a handheld navigation computer smashed to splinters against the wall behind Obi-Wan. It impacted less than a meter to his right, obviously aimed in his direction but purposely off the mark. After furiously chucking the navigation computer, Anakin pointed his forefinger at his friend, "Fuck _you_ and the high horse you fragging rode in on, Obi-Wan." He didn't wait for a reply before stomping towards the small staircase leading to the landing.

Obi-Wan took three large strides across the sitting room to tighten his battle-worn fingers around a cybernetic wrist and use the momentum of the younger Forceful's movements to bring them face-to-face. With contrition apparent in his dulcet voice, he swiftly expressed, "I crossed the line. You know I don't say it often and unless I mean it, but I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"You and I both have fought in plenty of battles where we didn't have all the details beforehand. What's so different about this one?"

Emerald eyes wilted with vulnerability as a shaking hand tangled in honey curls, "I can't lose you again."

All was immediately forgiven. Anakin's arms slipped around his distraught friend's neck and midback, tugging their bodies close. Grateful to be permitted the consoling proximity, Obi-Wan encircled his unoccupied arm around his housemate's lower back.

"We can't stay hidden away forever," Anakin murmured against the sandy mane he nuzzled. When he received no response, he quietly continued, "I know you think I'm not well enough to do this, but I have to stand on my own. If I fail, it will be because of me and _me alone_ , just as it was before. I can't be your responsibility anymore. I don't want that and you don't deserve it."

Obi-Wan only stood with his profile pressed against the taller man's neck. He logically knew both of them would return to the line of fire against the Empire- the Force was strong in their blood- but he wanted to put the call to arms off as long as he could. He wanted to play the buffer against all the things that were erosive to the little world they'd created in this house. Anakin was the sun his life orbited around and without his sun, his life was dim and drifting aimlessly like a lost satellite. He would go to any lengths to avoid losing the light of his life a second time. The only way he survived the past five years was by creating a bleak and meaningless wasteland, never having his numbness challenged. He could pretend the debilitating pain never existed. But Anakin was here in his grasp and he couldn't pretend he was numb anymore. He couldn't continue to pretend his reason for living didn't randomly reappear in Theed one morning.

How could he explain all these illogical emotions? For many years throughout his life, he suppressed or overlooked them. When he did open himself to the emotive unknown, he still never expressed himself to another person. If you have never experienced a feeling, evaluated it if you had experienced it, or related it to anyone when you comprehended what it was, how could you possibly intelligibly explain it? All he could do at the moment was hold on tightly to the man in his arms. The silence spoke volumes. Obi-Wan had never been clingy a day in his life and only through this clinginess was it made clear how truly frightened he was. If he was _this_ convinced the low-info mission was a bad idea, then it most likely was.

Anakin lightly stroked his hand over Obi-Wan's back in solace and made a mental verdict against going on Ahsoka's mission. _My body couldn't handle it right now anyway._ Affection weaved into every scale of his voice, "There's only _one_ other time I can think of you have ever been this quiet with me and that did _not_ end well."

The bait was not taken and the lack of response caused him to become even more perturbed. He unfurled his arms and coercively created a tiny distance between them. He gently framed Obi-Wan's face to elevate the entranced man's head. Brows were deeply knitted and eyes were set dead ahead. The tempest of emotion was prominent in the Jedi's contemplative, bewildered gaze and it took him only a matter of seconds to realize what was going on. "Talk to me," he delicately urged. "I don't care if you don't know the right words. It's only me, Obi-Wan. Say what you need to. You know nothing is too heavy for me."

Obi-Wan looked downwards, unable to sustain their penetrating eye contact after such fond and accepting reassurances. How was he going to explain the terror, desperation, longing, greediness, protectiveness, connectedness, weakness, potency, and wholeness he felt towards and when with Anakin? What was the correct way to explain that what he felt for this man made him suffer palpitations and headaches? Were there other people able to explain these emotional and physical oddities with succinct, intelligible language?

Anakin's mechno-hand brushed away a stray lock of hair from Obi-Wan's forehead before framing bristly cheeks more firmly than before. The movement of flesh and leather on the Jedi's face seemed to rouse a reaction, causing his eyes to snap shut. This disengaging action prompted further reassurances, "It's only me. Don't close your eyes. You don't have to hide anything. We don't have any limits here, not between us, remember?"

His eyes cracked open to meet the alluring oceanic orbs directly ahead. He wasn't sure if he was breathing or not, his heart pounded in his ears, and his legs felt like pulp. He didn't know when he realized the succinct, intelligible words he'd been looking for had been said a million times in his mind, but when the realization broke through the madness cavorting around his head, his body was ready to collapse.

"I love you."

The declaration was so soft, Anakin tried to convince himself he misheard. His hands frantically slid over the hinges of Obi-Wan's jaws and he lowly inquired, "What?" When the Stewjonian tried to step out of his grip, he followed the step, "No, _no_ , don't turn away from me. Say it again, Obi-Wan."

"I said, I love you."

"How do you love me?" The careful inquiry received a death stare, but he did not relent, "We need to be _comprehensively clear_ on what you mean when you say you love me." He closed the distance between them to continue cradling Obi-Wan's head as their bodies compressed together once again. Azure eyes burned hotly into malachite ones and their lips breathed the same air. "Tell me what you mean when you say you love me."

The warm breath on his lips and the strong fingers fanning over his cheekbones encouraged Obi-Wan to speak freely, "My soul was made for yours. I…I don't know any other way to say it."

With every second shocked sapphires unfalteringly burned into him, conflicting sensations of fire and ice raced up his legs and back. Without intending to, his vision flickered down to Anakin's lips. Before he managed to look away, those lips surged forward and pressed against his.

Obi-Wan became senseless. Reality was lost and he floated through a weightless space, coherent thoughts now unavailable. The only truth he understood was Anakin's mouth on his. A brief respite allowed them both to take a hasty breath before Anakin tilted his head and reattached their lips. The innocent touch transformed into a hungry demand for intimacy in a matter of seconds. Their teeth clashed clumsily at some point and their tongues explored and tangled without restraint. It was frenzied, needy, imperfect, and neither of them would have had it any other way. Right as he lost composure and made an embarrassing noise to the tongue sliding over the roof of his mouth, it was over.

The fallen Jedi dislodged their mouths and bodies, taking frantic steps backwards. His mechno-arm extended to maintain distance between them and his other hand forcefully clutched the synthcloth shirt over his abdomen. Wildness and disbelief filled his eyes and colored his voice when he animatedly growled, "We can _never_ do that again. Don't _ever_ let me fucking _touch_ _you_ _again_."

"Anakin-"

"There is _nothing_ but _danger and destruction_ in this!"

At first, Obi-Wan wasn't going to say anything. He was going to make a safe retreat, collect himself, and let Anakin do the same. But as he turned to leave the room, he knew he could not leave things as they were. He never intended to confess his feelings and he didn't initiate their kiss; he too knew the dangers both deeds could present. However, he logically knew his silence and disregard would only enable paranoia and emotional agitation. That never ended well. He spun back towards his hysterical housemate, "I could never know what you've gone through and I'm not going to pretend I totally understand your ambivalence, but you should know I'm not asking for anything nor do I expect it. I _never_ want any bad blood between us, so I assure you I will refrain from speaking so openly in the future."

He didn't wait for a response as he swiftly turned to make his way across the sitting room and trot up the few stairs to the landing. After a couple strides on it, he was roughly yanked around. Mismatched hands tightly grasped the loose sleeves over his biceps and his stomach plummeted at the sight of luminous, pinkish eyes.

Anakin gratingly spoke through clenched teeth, "I may be strong in the Force, but I'm not a _mind-reader._ When I wanted you to open up, I didn't know you were going to say those words to me. Did you think saying you _love_ me, _that your soul was made for mine,_ would have no repercussions?" Obi-Wan latched onto his forearms but made no effort to get loose, even when his intense, pinkened eyes began to mist over, "I love you. I've _always_ loved you, but as long as you didn't love me, I could control myself."

"What do you-"

Lips melded against Obi-Wan's again. The grip on his sleeves was used to step them back and slam him against the front door. Anakin greedily licked his tongue as roaming hands slid down his arms to lace their fingers together. The lip lock only broke so kisses could be planted against his bewhiskered jawline, drawing another unintended, embarrassing noise from his throat. Anakin used their interlocked fingers to fixedly pin his hands on either side of his shoulders against the door. Again, the Tatooinian's mouth connected with his, this time suckling on his lower lip. In all his ecstasy, he knew this wasn't right, that he should put a stop to the whole situation, but all he could do was shake under the cold chills debilitating his body. He'd fought in wars and cut a Sith lord asunder, but he was no match for this man's lips.

Every plane of their bodies touched by this point. He became so overwhelmed, he couldn't hold his head up. Their lips disconnected as his head rested back against the hard surface of the door. Anakin's energy was on fire, instinctively spreading and melting into his. With his mouth skyward, his friend settled for alternating open and close-mouthed kisses against his neck. There was dissatisfaction in a matter of seconds though and a hand roughly yanked open the tops of his tunics. Heated kisses then turned to his collarbones as a straying hand mapped the expanse of his chest.

The leather-gloved hand in his, the leftover saliva chilling his skin, the lips on his clavicle, the fingertips caressing his nipple- it was sensory overload. It was enough passion and loss of control to snap him back to his senses. His unrestricted hand cupped under Anakin's chin in order to disengage the kiss-swollen lips from his collarbone. He was distraught to find crimson, gold, and blue-speckled eyes. He leaned their foreheads together, held tightly to the fingers meshed with his, and maintained the firm grip on Anakin's chin. He found direct eye contact and sternly spoke, "I want and need you to _stop_."

The reaction was without delay.

Anakin's alarmed eyes batted rapidly and he took hyperventilative breaths. He released Obi-Wan and scuttled back like he'd stepped into an Endless Wastes lava river, not stopping until he hit the wall and could go no further. He ended up against the side of the landing opposite from the door with both hands pressed beside his hips to the wall behind him. He continued to heave every breath as the yellow and red slowly waned from his eyes. After a few moments of recovery, he bowed his head in shame, "I'm..I'm..by the Force, I'm _sorry_. I-I…I know that's not sufficient."

Obi-Wan's heart pounded against his ribcage as he straightened out his clothing. It was clear something dark moved, the recolored eyes, the aggression, the possessive lust, but as soon as he instructed Anakin to back off, it was so. This was not the same person from the end of the Clone Wars. This person still lost control when confronted with emotional turmoil, but he could restrain himself with a little bit of help. Aside from that night in the Sea, this constantly proved true. Obi-Wan saw it on Naboo when they reunited, he saw it on the initial visit to the Larses' farm, and he'd seen it happen before him yet again.

It was no secret Anakin was mercurial and explosive, with the most famous case of his personality complications clocking in at the end of the War. During those darkest days, Obi-Wan refused to give up on his former padawan, not even after video proof indicated he should. Not until he was given no other choice in the rivers of Mustafar did he stop believing the fallen Jedi could be redeemed. Likewise, he wouldn't abandon his dearest friend now, especially with the promise he saw. "I told you to stop," he soundly excused, "you did."

Anakin's twisted locks fell over his eyes as his head angled even further forward, "Yeah, after sexually assaulting you."

"Gods of the black moon, I think I would have used more Force or fist than flagrantly opening my mouth to yours if I wasn't receptive. And I wouldn't have made that _awful_ sound, of which we will _never_ mention again beyond this conversation. I didn't tell you to stop because…" Obi-Wan took a calming breath to stop himself from further rambling, "I told you to stop because I knew you weren't yourself. If anything, _I_ took advantage of _you_."

"You're wrong. I acted on instinct. I was more myself just now than I've been my entire life."

Obi-Wan attempted to paste his composed veneer back on as his arms crossed over his chest and his voice grew rigid, "The dark side was moving over you. Provoking you to say and do things." He abruptly cleared his throat and his eyes fell to the floor, though his voice remained unfaltering, "You do not desire or love me, at least not in this manner, and you never have."

Anakin used the back of his hand to swipe the hair on his forehead back, laughing disdainfully, "Because you're in my head, _right_?" His hand waved aimlessly towards the blonde as he stood upright, "Because you heard me curse the Force when I was afraid I lost you in the Kadavo system, right? You were in the apartment the night after you faked your death to hear me tell Padmé to _get away_ from me, to hear me _sob_ and _sob_ because all I wanted was _you_? You saw me in the Meditation Garden when I broke down after you told me Jedi, told me _you_ , couldn't love, right?" His hand waved outwards again and his voice dropped an octave, "You know how many jokes I made to cover up how much I wanted to _strangle_ Satine Kryze when she got _near_ you? Do you know how many times I masturbated in my bedroom _while I was your padawan_ to the _sound of your voice_ when you spoke on the phone in the common room? Do you have _any idea_ how many times I agreed to meditate with you the last few months so I could feel your energy around me?"

He took another couple steps forward to shorten the distance between them. Obi-Wan's head was tipped downward like he was still staring at the floor, but his vision was undoubtedly intercepted by Anakin's frame. His arms remained tightly crossed as the younger man's hand continued to wave emphatically, "I'll let you in my head. _I was in love with you by age ten_."

This admission managed to break Obi-Wan's stoic façade. His head hitched up to expose slightly parted lips and astonished eyes. A million thoughts sprinted through his mind but none gained full coherency or reached his lips before the confessions continued, "Then at age eleven, you told me Jedi weren't permitted attachment. In the years after that I would mention Padmé to cover up my feelings, hoping you wouldn't notice. I even thought if I told myself I loved her enough times, I would stop loving _you_. I _tried_ to eradicate the feelings I had for you. I fought it _every minute of every rotation_. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to me was _you_ and the only way I could stay with you was to be a Jedi. I thought I could figure out a loophole. I thought I could be a Jedi and be with you, too. I was convinced for years there had to be a way."

Anakin paused temporarily, licking his lips and inhaling deeply, "But by age nineteen, I still hadn't found a way around the Code and I still hadn't made any progress with you. I finally realized you would…" The volume of his voice dipped, "…you would never love me."

Obi-Wan tried to speak, but he only spoke louder, not wanting all the dreams and lies he stocked up for years to remain under lock and key, "It wasn't… I eventually grasped the importance of being a Jedi, of being a protector, a defender, a part of something greater than myself. It was reason to remain in the Order. At least, it should have been… In all honesty, I _needed_ to stay close to you. That's why I never left no matter how much I wanted to." He bit his lip and reached his flesh hand forward, tracing his fingertips over Obi-Wan's cheek, "It's probably because of that selfishness I… _ached_ for you. I wanted you to kiss me, to hold me. I wanted you to tell me you loved me and would do anything to be with me. But you didn't," his hand and eyes fell, "Padmé did."

He hastily swallowed and forced out what he had left to say before he lost the gall, "I wasn't being serious at first, when I started flirting with her. I was _empty,_ feeling _utterly_ rejected by you, feeling undesirable in every way. Then she reciprocated…it went from there. I came to…I loved Padmé, otherwise I wouldn't have married her, but…" He raked his fingers through his hair then held his hand outwards and raised his unguarded eyes, "…but I would have _never_ looked at her if I could have had _you_."

"You don't," Obi-Wan's voice faltered when he finally found the ability to respond. His hand covered his eyes, "You _can't_ mean that."

"Every word." The older Forceful took a step back then speedily turned to open the door, but Anakin verbally stalled him, "You said you love me. Did you mean it or-"

"It's clear neither of us are sure where we stand despite any past or current intent and emotions."

"I'll love you until the moons fall from the sky. Even though the only thing it brings me, and has ever brought me, is agony."

Obi-Wan closed the door behind him.


	11. Human Emotion

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: I've decided to post the risque portions of the story primarily because I feel they are important/necessary in illustrating Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship, and because I detest censorship. If FF censors this story/takes it down, as a result of this chapter or subsequent ones, you will be able to find it on Archive of Our Own or adult-fanfiction. Same story title and author's name on both.

Warnings: Masturbation.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Nine: Human Emotion

Seven hours passed since they cut themselves open and bled their souls all over the landing. Anakin paced the sitting room and tried to prepare himself for the letdown headed his way, but the more he thought about it, the more inconsolable he became. For the latter eighteen years of his life, he'd faced constant, ceaseless rejection from Obi-Wan. Granted, most of it was probably never conscious or intentional, but still, it was unyielding. As long as they'd known each other, the only time his heart was ever intact was during the earliest point in their relationship, when he was a perfectly naïve child.

-::-::-

 _The Council wanted him to be taught the ways of the Force in the main academy within the Jedi Temple before the official apprenticeship with his master began. Only a few months into his training he ignored the calls of his instructor and ran from his classroom. As he ran to the accommodation sector, he felt in his bones he'd made a mistake in coming to Coruscant. His mother was lightyears away, Qui-Gon was dead, and he would never fit in with these spoiled urchins. As soon as he got back to the Knights' Billet, he darted through the common room and fell face-first into the couch, sobbing. He still shamelessly wept into the cushions some while later when two steady hands gently rolled him over. It was Obi-Wan._ _There was only patience in his voice, "Master Sinube called to tell me you ran out of class. Somehow, I knew I'd find you here. What's wrong?"_

 _"Why do you even ask me questions like that? So we can play our predetermined roles? So I can tell you what happened and you can say," the boy imitated his master's distinctive accent, "_ oh, Anakin _,_ I'm so sorry to hear that happened _, like it changed anything?"_

 _"Well, I could play this alleged predetermined role much better if I knew what I'm so sorry to hear. For the_ second _time, Anakin: what's wrong?" the Jedi Knight kneeled in front of the couch to level their eyes._

 _Anakin shook his head and looked down at his hands, "I don't belong here."_

 _Obi-Wan's eyebrows creased, "Why do you think that?" The teary-eyed child sucked in his bottom lip in a clear refusal to answer, so the Stewjonian ducked his head to try to link their gaze again, "Look at me." His padawan eventually followed the directive and looked up at him with batting lashes, "Why do you think that?"_

 _"If you have to be like them to be a Jedi, then I can't be one," the ten-year-old resentfully declared._

 _"Like whom?"_

 _"Those pillocks in the academy."_

 _Used to Anakin's perfectly enunciated, sophisticated insults, the older Forceful didn't bother with a scolding that would go in one ear and out the other, "Did one of them say something to you?" More evasive maneuvers were employed, with lips twisting to the side and eyes shifting nervously, but he couldn't be put off so easily, "What did they say to you?" At the sight of additional tears, his tone became more insistent, "What did they say, Anakin?"_

 _The blue-eyed boy couldn't make himself look at his master, but he knew when it was time to hang it up, "He called me…he called me…he said I am a subhuman slave."_

 _Obi-Wan did the best he could to mask his rage when he quietly pressed, "Who said that?"_

 _"It doesn't matter," Anakin smeared his hands under his eyes._

 _The words came out sharper than intended,_ "Yes _, it does. Who said that to you?"_

 _"Iy'steir."_

 _Obi-Wan tried to remind himself the culprit was only a youngling, "We will have a talk with him. What happened today will not happen again."_

 _Anakin sunk further into the couch, "What does it matter? He's right, isn't he?"_

 _"Absolutely not. You are extremely intelligent, talented, and big-hearted; never forget this. Anyone who thinks you are less than human because you were a slave is lacking in humanity themselves and must be morally retrained."_

 _"Do you not care I was a slave?"_

 _"I only wish it wasn't something you had to of endured. It doesn't change how special you are or make you any less of a person. Do not let them dictate who you are or what actions you take, my little padawan. If you give your power away to others, eventually you will be powerless."_

 _Glimmering sapphires widened with hope, "So, you don't wish I was different?"_

 _"Never."_

-::-::-

He developed a strong preference for Obi-Wan after leaving Tatooine. With each passing rotatioin and every additional encounter, he craved his master's presence more and more. He fancied the overall security and encouragement he felt when they were together but eventually focused in on more personal particulars- on Obi-Wan's rare, gentle touches, his eloquence, his warmhearted emerald eyes, his sharp sarcasm, his dulcet voice, his mental and physical strength. Within six months, Anakin was crushing hard. But after the conversation in the billet, nine months after his arrival, he knew he was in love with his master.

His love amplified every rotation over the course of the consequent months. All he would want to do was sit and drink in Obi-Wan's hair, voice, smile, eyes, and laugh. It never occurred to him what he was doing was wrong or would lead to the worst rejection of his life. He thought that when he was old enough, his feelings would be returned. Obi-Wan and he were going to be in love one day and that was how their lives would play out. His pipe dream was ravaged a couple months after his eleventh birthday.

-::-::-

 _"Master?"_

 _The Jedi Knight had stopped getting incensed when Anakin would interrupt their meditations. He came to the realization it was very difficult for someone with such an active mind and energy to focus during the placidity of the practice. It would take many more attempts before the boy would be able to get through a solid ten minutes in a meditative state without initiating a random, outlandish conversation. His brows arched, but his eyes remained closed, "Hm?"_

 _"If you're in love with someone and the likelihood-"_

 _His eyes snapped open, "In love?"_

 _"Yes, and the likelihood-"_

 _"Wait, wait," he interrupted a second time. His legs uncrossed and he scooted to the side of the bench to sit normally. "Why are you asking this question?"_

 _Anakin anxiously dug his fingers into the grassy foliage beneath him, "Well..."_

 _Obi-Wan knew the answer before it was spoken. The nervous mannerisms were a dead give away. He leaned forward and grasped the edge of the bench, "As a padawan and a Jedi, love and attachments cannot be pursued, Anakin."_

 _"What? Why?"_

 _He searched his apprentice's face for any trace of jest but found none. One of his hands rubbed over his mouth, "Qui-Gon told me he spoke of this with you before you were taken from Tatooine."_

 _Anakin's tiny fingers tunneled deep into the earth to counteract the pressure he felt in his chest, "Well, he didn't. I don't know what you're talking about. What do you mean I can't love people?"_

 _Obi-Wan stood only to take a knee a couple steps away from his padawan, "Love is attachment. Attachment is very dangerous for a Jedi. It can lead to jealousy, to fear of loss, to-"_

 _The world felt like it was losing its gravitational pull._

 _"_ You're _a Jedi." When he only received a blank stare, Anakin pushed, "You're saying you cannot love?"_

 _"It is not a matter of being literally unable to love. It is a matter of lessening our susceptibility to the dark side."_

 _He yanked up the vegetation at his fingertips only to throw it back down in indignation, "Can you actually answer instead of treating me like a mentally deficient neonate and picking at the technicality of my question?"_

 _"No, I cannot love. The Order and the greater good we serve comes before the individual." Obi-Wan was expecting the tears. Anakin had immense talent in the Force, but there was no denying the raw, round-the-clock emotions the eleven-year-old experienced. It was gravely worrisome, but every time he decided he would put an end to the madness, he'd see those shiny sapphires and his resolve was broken. This time was no exception, "I didn't know this hadn't been discussed with you. I was under the impression Jedi conventions were explained to you before we even met."_

 _The boy bit his lip and used his arms to pull his legs against his chest. His chin nestled between his knees, giving a perfect view of the tears pouring down his face. Obi-Wan leaned forward on his hand, "Don't cry, Anakin."_

 _The shouts were unexpected, "Why not? Isn't that the whole reason you don't tell me crucial information like this? So you can watch me cry about it when I find out?"_

 _"Absolutely not, my little padawan," he vehemently denied and reached out for the upset child._

 _Surprisingly, Anakin scuttled back out of reach and climbed to his feet, "You take me away from my mother, you make me converse with those lurdos at the academy, you won't let me live with you, you make me play nice with Windu, you make me drink nasty synthetic milk, and_ now _you tell me I'm not allowed to feel or act on a_ basic human emotion _? Fuck you!"_

 _The enraged Tatooinian turned and dashed away after the furious proclamations._ _Obi-Wan stood and called after him, but it was no use._

-::-::-

He never cried so fiercely as he did in that damp grotto in the Meditation Garden. It felt like his heart and all his dreams had been ripped out, leaving only a vacuum inside him. Obi-Wan not only rejected his love and made it clear there would never be reciprocal love but even told him he wasn't allowed to possess his ever-deepening attachment. He'd never felt agony like that before. He considered the pain he would have felt if he'd been denied the attachment to his mother, but his love for her was a foregone conclusion. Nobody would have been able to take that from him no matter what they did and he would always have her love. To this day, that remained true.

No, only Obi-Wan had ever shattered his heart so consummately and only Obi-Wan held the power to break him like that more than once.

-::-::-

 _The Festival of Life grew on Anakin over the years. Overall, he hated everything about it. He hated the horrendous soiree Obi-Wan and he were forced to attend where he was forced to listen to Jedi Knights and Masters gush about how great, smart, and advanced their padawan was- something which his contradictory tongue never could resist. He hated to watch all the padawans give gifts to each other but somehow manage to consistently leave him out of their exchanges. He hated to hear the reminiscence on past lives that always seemed less slave-oriented than his. He hated the asinine males and females that senselessly used the occasion as an excuse to try to secretly woo him, only to pretend he didn't exist when they were around other people. Despite all these things, he was fond of the Festival of Life._

 _Every year for the past four years he'd been on Coruscant, Obi-Wan would spend every morning and evening of the five-day holiday with him. If he was lucky, there would be a rotation when neither one of them would have a monotonous social engagement and they could spend that time together, too._ _Tonight was not such a night. Obi-Wan forcefully suggested he go to the dreadful annual ball, which was a silly dance-oriented party for padawans to gather without their masters. He despised it, but he went every year anyway to make his beloved Stewjonian happy. As tradition, he ducked out of the ball early, but instead of having to return to the dormitories as in the previous four years, he got to return to the chambers Obi-Wan and he shared._

 _After he broke six bones in Iy'steir's face, the Council deemed it necessary he be moved in to his master's private senior quarters until his "behavioral issues" were under control. He knew if Iy'steir hadn't caused constant problems with him and other padawans for the last four years, he most likely would have been kicked out of the Order. Instead they brought down a punishment that he could never consider unfortunate: living with the love of his life._

 _Obi-Wan greeted him with sapir tea and their normal banter, not making mention of his early arrival. It was shaping up to be a lovely night when an excited knock drew his master to the front door. Their visitor was none other than Aayla Secura. He didn't pay attention to what was said- causing him to miss Aayla's explanation regarding her "fun_ _experiment" to see how many fellow Knights she could give gifts to before this year's festival was over- until the Twi'lek pulled out a palm-sized music box from behind her back and chirped, "Happy Festival of Life!"_

 _He always gave a gift to Obi-Wan for the holiday, but he'd never seen anyone else do so. Although he knew it wasn't rational, the friendly gesture filled him with animosity and, more overwhelmingly, jealousy. His knuckles whitened with how tightly he clenched his fist and his breaths came out in short spurts. Only after he heard Obi-Wan say, "If I'd known, I would have gotten one for you," did he slam his teacup on the glass coffee table. Even though the cup bounced twice, making an awful clanging sound, and skidded over the side of the table, it didn't break. Green liquid sprayed all over the floor as he stomped to his bedroom and shut the door._

 _Aayla tried to speak very quietly, "He does not seem to have improved any in the last two months."_

 _Despite his sister-in-arms' secretiveness, Obi-Wan had nothing to hide and spoke at his normal volume, "No, he has been doing much better. I'm not sure what we witnessed a second ago." He looked towards the closed bedroom door, "He really doesn't like the festival. He probably thought he escaped the festivities."_

 _The Rylothite put her hands on her hips and her voice still rolled out in whispers, "Someone saying_ happy Festival of Life _is not a reasonable excuse for throwing a teacup, Obi-Wan. If he has made no improvement since the incident in the padawan dormitories, the Council is not going to let him stay. Please do not take that threateningly. I am telling you as a friend. If you cannot help him-"_

 _"Anakin is not a droid. I cannot rewire and tune him until he behaves the way he is expected to nor do I wish to," Obi-Wan mirrored Aayla's hands-on-hip stance. "People don't get better because you will it so and they certainly don't get better when you try to force them to. Anakin experiences emotions much more intensely than not only other padawan and Jedi but most other people. He will master them someday, but it will happen on his own time. Unless the Council removes him from my tutelage and care, he only has my patience, guidance, and understanding."_

 _"His temper and hatred are setting both of you up for a collision course with the dark side."_

 _"And if we crash, the culpability will rest on my shoulders, not his." His head bowed in dismissal, "Happy Festival of Life, Aayla. Thank you for the music box."_

 _Anakin laid flat in his bed with rapidly blinking eyes fixed on the ceiling and fists clenched. He heard the front door close then the sound of footfalls grew louder and louder until his bedroom door was opened._

 _Obi-Wan carefully inspected his padawan's tense face with full knowledge the conversation in the common room had been overheard through the thin walls. He gripped the bedpost at the foot of the bed and decided to approach from a different angle, "Did you have a good time at the ball?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Why not?"_

 _"The same reason I_ always _have a terrible time with those vacuous clowns," Anakin scathed with an increasingly irritated expression. "They either think I'm inferior_ or _they think I'm cavalier and sanctimonious_ or _they think if they step too close they'll be soaked in midichlorians. They aren't worth my concerted time or effort."_

 _"Maybe you can-"_

 _His lips adopted a snarl and his eyelashes continued to flash in rapid succession, "Leave me the fuck alone. I didn't ask for your sympathy and your advice in regards to decorum and camaraderie is always_ much less _than conducive."_

 _Obi-Wan waited until the snarl faded from his lips before quietly quizzing, "What did I do, Anakin?"_

 _"_ Nothing _! You just won't ever blinking leave me alone! Am I not allowed to retire to my bedroom for solitude?"_

 _Everything was fine when they sipped on their tea. If Obi-Wan didn't personally do something to cause upset and nothing of note happened at the ball, there was only one viable conclusion._ _The Jedi sat on the end of the bed and rotated his body enough to look Anakin head-on, "Why did Aayla's presence upset you?"_

 _The brunette shot upright in the bed to give his rebuke more clout, "It didn't! I don't give a smeg what she does! Why don't you go_ pester her _? You can shower each other in gifts and I can get some Force-damn peace and quiet!"_

 _At first, Obi-Wan's mouth hung open in shock. Then he started to stand but sat back down and pulled his right leg onto the bed to hunch forwards. Disbelief colored his voice, "I can't believe you're this upset she didn't get you a gift."_

 _At first, Anakin only stared. Then his hands slathered over his face and he agitatedly groaned, "You're_ so stupid _, Master. Can you leave?"_

 _Surprisingly, the command was followed. However, Obi-Wan came back a few moments after his abrupt exit to gently place a giftwrapped package on the side of the bed. A smile slowly stretched over the fourteen-year-old's lips as he stared at the triangular object. He looked up to find conciliatory emerald orbs, "You got me a gift?"_

 _"I always get you a gift."_

 _"But you didn't get Aayla a gift."_

 _Obi-Wan's eyebrow arched and his arms crossed, "Why would I? She is not my padawan."_

 _As soon as the words were spoken, he knew he made a mistake. He didn't know what the mistake was, but he knew it had been made. Anakin flinched away, as though the words physically wounded him, and huddled in the corner of his bed with a deep frown. Obi-Wan didn't realize he misperceived the teasing remark to mean the gifts he received for the past four years were simply a dutiful errand a master completed for a padawan._

 _Anakin kicked the triangle-shaped package off the bed and growled, "Your padawan doesn't_ want _your yearly fucking trainer tax. Go give it to Aayla."_

Now I see. _Obi-Wan bent down and picked up the forsaken gift. He peered directly into burning blue eyes as he replaced it on the side of the bed, "It's_ your _gift. And I am giving it to you because I care about you, not because anybody asked or directed me to."_

 _He then turned and made his way out of the bedroom, leaving the wrapped present on the bed._

 _-::-::-_

Somehow, Obi-Wan's grand gestures repeatedly ended up as reminders he was an assignment and the more the Jedi Master denied that's all he was, the more convinced of it he became. There'd never been a time before the month prior, when it was expressly stated to him, that he thought Obi-Wan held true attachment to him. He'd always assumed there was a strong sense of responsibility but _never_ attachment. Despite how elated the Attachment Proclamation made him, he knew it held the potential to do as much damage as when a _lack_ of attachment had been proclaimed.

-::-::-

 _"Master," Anakin whisperingly hissed as he swept up behind Obi-Wan._

 _The older Forceful glanced over one shoulder then the other to try to get a good look at his strangely-behaving padawan, "What are you doing?"_

 _"Trade me posts," the Tatooinian ducked his head below the Stewjonian's and turned their bodies to face the way he came in the off-chance someone came searching after him._

 _"I most certainly will not," Obi-Wan tried to turn around but was held in place by the shoulders. "What in the name of the Force is_ wrong _with you?"_

 _"Either trade me posts or I'm going to backfist a Senator," Anakin angrily albeit quietly declared._

 _He rotated his head as far to the side as he could and sternly warned, "_ You better not _."_

 _"Look, I'm doing the levelheaded thing here. Instead of punching the bastard like he deserves, I've come to you for abetment. Trade me," the brunette tried to step him forward._

 _"There is absolutely_ no _basis,_ I repeat _,_ no _basis for_ ever _striking a Senator," he hotly scolded while resisting the push on his shoulders. "This isn't even something that should have to be said."_

 _Anakin's hands fell into fists at his sides and he rancorously mocked, "No basis_ ever?"

 _"No basis for a Jedi," Obi-Wan rubbed two fingers into his temple. "Not over his politics or-"_

 _"He grabbed my ass and offered me five-thousand credits to bend me over the desk in his office."_

 _His hand dropped from his temple and tensely froze near his midsection when he spun around, "What?_ What _?_ Five-thousand- what?"

 _"So, I guess I would only have basis if he treated me like a low-class whore instead of a high-class one?" Anakin's fingers combed through his short hair and a humiliated mumble left his tongue as he turned away, "Forget I asked for your help."_

 _"I didn't mean it like that," Obi-Wan stepped forward to hook his fingers around the seventeen-year-old's arm. "I just…It's just…" Unable to find the right words, he instead informed, "You're trading me posts. We'll talk about this later." He started towards the Senate Building, but as soon as he thought on the unnamed Senator's vulgar proposition, he paused. It felt like a noose was around his neck and his stomach churned with nausea. He spun around and retraced his steps so he could wrap his hand around the back of his apprentice's neck, "If anyone_ ever _touches you like that again, Senator or otherwise, put them to the floor." He dropped his hand and took a step back but again paused, "Give me his name."_

::::

 _When Obi-Wan got to their chambers later that night, Anakin had already returned and retired. Despite the lightlessness of the bedroom, he was able to spot alert azure eyes. He leaned with crossed arms against the wall beside the door, "How was the rest of your rotation?"_

 _The response was drenched in exasperation, "Fine. How about yours?"_

 _"Uneventful," he causally commented. Based on the dark-room brooding, he easily deciphered, "You're still irate."_

 _"Why would I be irate?" Anakin scornfully laughed, "Why would I be irate, Obi-Wan? I'm apparently a great kriffing piece of ass. All the other padawans pretend I'm a disease unless they're asking me to fuck and now I have Senators willing to pay me to take my clothes off. Thank the damn fucking Force I'm so attractive." The Jedi Knight was at a loss for words, especially when fingers pushed against air-tight eyes to obviously wipe away tears. "No one can hold more than a ten-minute conversation with me, I have no friends, everyone thinks I'm a lunatic, but hey, at least people want to use me to get off."_

 _"I pray that was sarcasm." Obi-Wan crossed the floor, pulled tear-stained hands into his, and stared into reddened eyes, "Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see quick wit and ample compassion, awesome intelligence, talent. I see someone capable of unending conversations and debates when engaged properly._

 _"I see my little padawan who gets into far too much mischief and a strong young man that dwells with far too many ghosts. I see someone who gets fed up because he knows he is_ not _a lunatic and knows he deserves better than what he is given." His forefinger gently pressed against a sun-blushed cheek, "I see the blinding light perpetually radiating from inside you."_

 _Anakin's eyes closed as he threw all his focus into Obi-Wan's touch and loving words, "Your worth is_ invaluable _. It is not based in opinions, credits, or unwanted sexual advances. Every sun, moon, and diamond in this galaxy_ combined _are less valuable than you are. I mean that."_ _When the touch on his cheek withdrew, he opened his eyes. His gaze hooked with his master's in spite of the darkness engulfing them, "I also meant what I said earlier today. If_ anyone _puts their hands on you without your permission, go postal."_

 _The Jedi patted the hand under his and gave a reassuring smile before he stood to leave. He was stopped, however, by an uncertain query, "Why did you change your mind so quickly? About how I should handle it, I mean."_

 _"How you were treated today made me sick. It made me sicker you felt you had to come to me to ask permission to stop someone from inappropriately touching you. I don't want you to come to me. If you are physically and emotionally able, I want you to protect yourself when you're being mistreated," he softly explained. He was about to step back into the common room when he tacked on, "And never think you are friendless, Anakin."_

 _An unobtrusive call of his name lured him back into the bedroom before he got too far. The next words spoken felt like a fist to the face, "Are you attached to me?"_

 _In all honesty, he didn't know the answer. He did everything within his power to never assess the question. As a mentor and friend, he wanted nothing but Anakin's safety and happiness. He wasn't sure what that amounted to, but if any deep-seated attachment did exist, it was best he didn't know about it, that way he could never react to or act on it. Of course, he didn't go into all this. His answer was simple, "No."_

 _Anakin felt like a bomb went off in his chest. The radioactive debris climbed up his throat and down into his stomach, instant pain and loss of breath. How could he have possibly thought Obi-Wan was trying to admit some sort of feelings for him? The comments on how nauseating the Senator's unsolicited advance had been and how blinding his internal light was filled him with more hope than ever before, but as soon as that_ _unapologetic_ no _shot through the night, straight into his heart,_ _he felt like a dumb, foolish child. Tears and fury welled up, "How can you be friends with someone and not be attached to them?"_

 _"We've gone over this, Anakin."_

 _The Jedi-in-training became more brutal and unrelenting than he usually was on the topic, "_ Yeah _, and I think it's a folly_ _. If you're my friend, you're_ attached _to me; if you're_ not attached _to me, you_ can't be _my friend."_

 _Obi-Wan turned towards the bed and shook his head, "It doesn't work like that."_

 _Anakin let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a scoff, "Does a Jedi_ ever _stop cowering behind the Code to take accountability for his own feelings and determinations?"_

 _Jade eyes narrowed in disturbance and confusion at where this volley of rebellion was coming from, "That's a dangerous line of thinking, padawan."_

 _"Why?" he bellowed through another scoffing laugh. "Because_ you _say it is, because_ the Code _says it is, or because it_ actually _is?"_

 _The blonde's worry multiplied and it was evident in his voice, "The Code was developed-"_

 _"By a group of people who decided to dictate other peoples' lives._ It _._ Is _._ An inane. Folly _._ Hutt slime stupidity."

 _"Do you_ honestly _think attachment cannot act as a gateway to the dark side?" he heatedly combated the argument being presented. "Do you_ truly _believe that?"_

 _The response came in cold blood._

 _"I believe that if I was soullessly fucked for two minutes by a Senator, even he wouldn't deny he felt at least one basic human emotion in the middle of it, which would be more emotion than I get from you, my so-called friend."_

 _The target of such viciousness didn't respond. He simply turned, retreated to his bedroom, and drank himself into a stupor. It was his best desperate remedy when he needed to keep himself from assessing_ _the question._

-::-::-

With everything that happened tonight, the memory of the Politician Predicament was even more painful to think about. An immediate, outright rejection would have been highly preferred to all the heart-sickening hope that had accumulated. The joint meditations with temporary bonds, the confessions of attachment, the declarations of love, the insanity-inducing physical contact. And now Obi-Wan was going to say it all meant nothing. _I know it_. It would be nothing less than soul-shattering, but Anakin tried to convince himself it was something he could handle. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Obi-Wan shattered his soul.

-::-::-

 _He sat at the kitchen table and stared at the clock, waiting for the minutes in this rotation to slip away. He vaguely heard the front door open but didn't turn and greet his roommate. Without warning, a slice of puff cake, his favorite, was placed on the table._

 _"Happy birthday, Anakin."_

 _There couldn't be less enthusiasm in his voice if he'd actually put effort into sounding unenthused, "Yeah, thanks."_

 _Obi-Wan traipsed to the other side of the table to sit down and examine him with a curious eye, "You don't seem too happy about turning nineteen."_

 _His face and voice were devoid of emotion as he stared at the Devros crystal plate under his birthday cake, "Overjoyed."_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"I don't know," he shrugged noncommittally. "Nothing."_

 _"Anakin," Obi-Wan soothingly entreated, "talk to me."_

 _With a shake of the head, he stood from the table, "You wouldn't understand."_

 _"I can try to. What is it?"_

 _He paced back and forth a couple times then stopped with his back turned to his master. He spoke to the darkened side of the kitchen, "I'm not_ going _anywhere._ My life _, it's not_ going _anywhere. I'm not going forwards; I'm not going backwards. I'm in suspension, in stasis."_

 _The Jedi Knight's elbows leaned onto the tabletop, "In what aspect?"_

 _"_ Every _aspect," he lamented, with his voice growing fainter when he repeated, "every aspect."_

 _Butterflies fluttered wildly in Obi-Wan's stomach upon witnessing such listlessness and he offered the first encouragement that came to mind, "Your training is moving forwards quite spectacularly."_

 _This was obviously not the correct thing to say. The younger Forceful started to pace off with a hopeless sigh, "Chut chut."_

 _"Stop, stop, wait," he stood up from his chair and moved around the table to reach a hand to the taller teenager's shoulder, "Help me understand. Illustrate one of the aspects you're referring to."_

 _Anakin put his head in his hands to shield his eyes from view, "I feel like the seams of my soul are unraveling and I'm able to see inside it and it's empty and I keep trying to fill it with all this shit that means nothing; it means_ nothing _. Another year has passed and I'm just filling my life, my time, my soul with inconsequential_ shit _."_

 _Obi-Wan turned him and held his shoulders firmly, "How long have you been feeling like this?"_

 _"Nine years."_

 _"Why haven't you said anything to me?"_

 _"There's nothing you can do about it."_

 _Unable to cope with the pangs his padawan's forlorn resignation beat into his chest, Obi-Wan countered, "I can try. Come with me." He spun on his heel towards the front door but quickly discerned a lack of footsteps behind him. He peered over his shoulder and repeated, "Follow me."_

 _This time, Anakin blindly followed. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even pay attention to the route they took through the Temple. Only when they came to a stop did he realize where they were. A disgruntled groan trundled from the back of his throat, "The Meditation Garden? You know I loathe this place."_

 _"Will you just indulge me?" Obi-Wan offered a smile. They weaved through the chambers, past babbling streams and stone pathways, until they came to a serene pond bathed in sunshine. He wisely avoided the sand-covered beach on the south side of the pond and instead led them to the green foliage on the north side. He sat cross-legged on the ground at the water's edge._

 _Anakin's disinterested stare gravitated to the fish in the pond, "You want me to meditate with you?"_

 _"It won't be a permanent fix, but it might help you relax a bit."_

 _"No, it won't," he dismissed and shifted on his feet in preparation for a swift exit._

 _The green-eyed Knight knew he was playing with fire when he proposed, "It will if we open a bond between our energies."_

 _The Tatooinian's muscles tensed and his head shook warily, "I thought you said-"_

 _"Do you trust me?"_

 _"Of course I trust you."_

 _"Then sit," Obi-Wan nodded to the space in front of him._

 _Anakin was mildly apprehensive as he lowered to the ground. His master frequently told him that if he were to meditate with another to never, never touch or share Living Forces. Why, he had asked. Obi-Wan responded, unless you trust them as wholly as you trust yourself, it is dangerous; they could do great harm to you. Also, his master added, you could become highly dependent on their Living Force or worse, they could become highly dependent on yours._

 _Any warnings or apprehension flew out the window when their energies laced together._

 _Within seconds of tasting Obi-Wan's Living Force, he did everything he could to devour it. Throughout the course of the meditation, he didn't give a single consideration to his fellow Forceful. All he knew was he needed more of this white-hot heat, this comfort, this earnest affection, inside him. With every wave of heat that passed through him, he lost track of reality. He forgot where he was and grappled more desperately at the Living Force cradling his._

 _Obi-Wan, for his part, was highly aware of what was happening. He knew Anakin wasn't paying attention to how invasive the bond had gotten and meant him no harm. As depressed and remote as his padawan was, he allowed the intimacy, grateful to offer some sort of consolation. If he were ever to be confronted about it, he wouldn't be able to deny he knew what he was doing was wrong. But when he felt the contentment bubble from his friend through their temporary bond, he knew he would face any ramifications he must. If he didn't open himself up too much, kept their connection on a time limit, and didn't repeat the offense, it should result in a more upbeat Anakin with no damage done._

 _The nineteen-year-old was so lost in his meditative bliss, the ten minutes they spent in the Garden seemed like hours. He reluctantly blinked his eyes open when he felt Obi-Wan's energy begin to recede from their bond. When his vision finally focused, he zeroed in on joyous emerald jewels and a brilliant, toothy smile, "Did that help?" The fire crackling through him would only permit a slack nod. Obi-Wan's smile remained, "I'm glad to hear that."_

 _One of his hands clutched his forehead and his eyes lowered, "I'm going to lay down."_

 _The Jedi's cheerful mien turned to one of worry, "Are you alright?"_

 _"Light-headed. I just need to lay down," he unsteadily stood from the ground._

 _The wobbliness in the teenager's movements caused Obi-Wan to shift onto his knees, "Do you need assistance?"_

 _Anakin staggered backwards with a shake of the head, "No." He then unceremoniously turned and dashed away from their place beside the pond without another word. He managed to make it back to their chambers without incident and darted directly into his bedroom. He locked the door- a rare occurrence- and paced around frantically. His hands hit against the wall, the table, the footboard, a deactivated droid in desperate attempts to clear his head by mindless motion, but he couldn't forget the feeling of Obi-Wan's energy licking his veins and fusing with his blood. He could still feel the intoxicating heat and hear Obi-Wan's saccharine voice as it crooned those hypnotic recitations. And then_ that smile _after they were done._

 _One hand clutched the doorframe as his other hand slid under his tunics and into his pants. His eyes closed as he gripped himself and all he could see was Obi-Wan's beautiful smile. Breathing became labored and the hand on the doorframe dropped to unfasten his belt and pants. He wanted that exhilarating heat back. He wanted the pressure that lapped at his brain to commence again. His pants slid down his thighs and he desperately laid back on the bed, not bothering with further disrobement. He wanted Obi-Wan's tantalizing, kissable mouth on him, on his abdomen, his nipples, his neck, his tongue. His grip tightened and his strokes quickened when his free hand slid over the flesh he yearned for his beloved master to kiss. He wanted to feel Obi-Wan deep inside him, dotingly caressing his thighs, massaging the dimples in his back, loving him until neither one of them could move. He moaned and twisted the covers in his grip. His legs bent so his hips could hitch upwards in small thrusts as he imagined Obi-Wan fucking into him. He wanted that honeyed voice to say_ I love you, Anakin _. The strokes of his hand grew in speed and strength. He wanted to get Obi-Wan off so hard that the only thing the Jedi would be able to do afterwards is smile that beautiful smile. He cried out as he came._

 _That was the moment he knew this was a lost cause. He would never know what it was like to have the man he loved inside him. He would never have Obi-Wan's heart._

 _Immediately after completion, he was stricken. Tears welled in his eyes and he rolled over onto his side to curl into a fetal position and hug his pillow. What happened in the Garden was a cruel joke, a teasing spoonful of what intimacy with Obi-Wan would be like. Now he knew a romantic bond between them would be nothing less than wild and passionate._ Your Living Force alone had me disoriented and coming harder than I ever have before. _The warnings flooded back into his head:_ you could become highly dependent on their Living Force or worse, they could become highly dependent on yours.

 _Why had Obi-Wan connected their energies like he did? There was no chance he didn't know the potential offshoots. Did he do this as punishment? Was it amusing to him? Is that what that ravishing smile was about?_

 _Obi-Wan was right. He hadn't accomplished a permanent fix: he accomplished the most hurtful thing he'd ever done._

 _Anakin sobbed into his pillow and hands, resentful of this terrible day and his terrible yearning for Obi-Wan Kenobi._

-::-::-

There were no further offers to touch their Living Forces after his nineteenth birthday. It was somewhat of a relief because it meant he was never put in the awkward position of declining then trying to explain why, but it was mostly a torment because it meant Obi-Wan either didn't like the connection they shared or the entire affair had indeed been a vicious trick. Only within the last few months, some nine years later, did they bond their Living Forces again. This time though, the bonds were numerous and extensive. To say it was a setup for devastation was an understatement.

He tried to tell himself otherwise, but he knew in his marrow that when his housemate returned, the heart-decaying pain he felt when he was eleven, when he was fourteen, when he was seventeen, and on his nineteenth birthday would be relived.

No matter how many times Obi-Wan rejected him, it would cause pain to leak into his soul like blood through a diseased heart valve.

-::-::-

 _Obi-Wan dramatically sighed, "How do you keep getting us into these situations?"_

 _"_ Me _? I told you to stop!" Anakin tried to bury his laugh in an outraged scoff._

 _"No, you didn't."_

 _His tone turned patronizing, "I verbatim said, Obi-Wan, stop, it's a fragmentation mine."_

 _The green-eyed general firmly poked his index finger into the back of his friend's shoulder," Well, you should have said it louder."_

 _The brunette tried to look over his shoulder at his agitator, "I was yelling at the top of my voice."_

 _"Well, you need to work on your enunciation. You sounded like a screaming Wookiee." This earned a humorous snort given the frequent comments on the Tatooinian's perfect enunciation. "You know we're stuck in here until the next exhaust cycle, don't you?"_

 _"Yes, I do, and we can thank_ you _for the hour-and-fifteen-minute break," Anakin sighed and sightlessly clipped his lightsaber onto his leather belt._

 _Obi-Wan clipped his own lightsaber, "I honestly couldn't understand you."_

 _The resulting laugh echoed against the metal material surrounding them, "Isn't there someone I know always going on and on about listening skills?"_

 _He leaned against the wall of tungsten behind him, "I'm surprised you hear anything I say."_

 _"Listening skills."_

 _"When they're convenient."_

 _Anakin basically felt the eye roll that accompanied the carping reply. Normally he would stretch out their battle of wits, but something about being this close to Obi-Wan made him witless. He tried to focus on anything else other than their proximity, even if it was only the sweat forming on his forehead. When his efforts failed and his mind brimmed over with vastly inappropriate thoughts involving the man beneath him, he tried to score some relief, "Can you move back at all?"_

 _"If I could, you wouldn't be in my lap." When he began to twist around, Obi-Wan lightly gripped his hips, "What are you_ doing _?"_

 _"Getting comfortable," he continued to wiggle downwards._

 _Slightly more pressure was applied to his hips to try to still him, "You-you-"_

 _He shifted until his head could comfortably lean back against the other general's shoulder, though the position caused his long legs to scrunch up like an accordion, "_ _If I have to sit on someone in a dark, cramped energy exhaust vent for an hour, I'm going to be comfortable."_

 _"You can't make things painless, can you?"_

 _"Come on, you know me too well for such a question." Less than a minute of silence passed between them before his mind again homed in on the position of their bodies and became swamped with extraordinarily salacious thoughts. He needed a distraction immediately. He absolutely could not let himself get swept up in his thoughts lest his body react in ways he deemed forbidden in his current situation. "Well, I'm bored. What do you want to talk about?"_

 _"We've been in here for less than two minutes and he's bored," Obi-Wan incredulously announced._

 _"Thank you, narrator. Pick something to talk about."_

 _A deep sigh hissed against the tungsten, "Can you try to stay focused on the mission?"_

 _Anakin touched his cybernetic hand to the top of their temporary prison, "I'll focus on the mission when I'm not crammed in a vent. Right now, I'm a can of fluke fish and I'm frinking bored."_

 _"Can you please just-just focus on the mission, okay?"_

Why do you keep doing this? _He tried to grow up. He tried to be civilized and courteous and easy-freaking-going. He kept telling himself Obi-Wan was only busy, like during the Holomessage Matter. Surely he was overreacting, he was exaggerating, he was irrational, being unreasonable. Still, if he heard Obi-Wan say the word_ mission _one more time, he was going to choke someone with flexisteel wire. He couldn't handle this anymore. What the hell was happening to their relationship?_

"Fine," _he furiously huffed, "if you won't choose something to talk about,_ I will _. How about we talk about why you never want to talk to me about anything except_ mission _-related matters since I turned twenty? Even before that._ "

" _That is entirely not true," Obi-Wan's perspiration-coated eyebrows furrowed._

 _"Name a single conversation we've had in the last_ one and a half brixing years _that hasn't been about a mission."_

 _"We…I…we just had a conversation about listening skills," he feebly declared._

 _The indignation in Anakin's voice sent shivers down his spine, "Two Force-fucking sentences to me about my listening skills doesn't count as a conversation. You can't think of one because it doesn't exist."_

 _"Life has become very hectic, Anakin. The-"_

 _"Right."_

 _He consciously stopped his fingers from burrowing into his friend's hips, "Our lives can't be the way they used to be. There's a war raging and we have responsibilities we must tend to. There's nothing I would like more than to live like we used to, sharing a billet and talking for hours on end, but life moves forward. It must change, even if it is not necessarily for the better."_

 _The bitter rage in the younger Forceful's voice was replaced by something much more chilling: despondency, "You're telling me that if we grow apart, that's the way life is."_

 _"I…That's not what-"_

 _"I told you you couldn't be my friend without attachment."_

 _He wrapped his arms around Anakin's chest, "Why do you have to say things like that?"_

 _"Like what? The truth? Because I'm the only one that will tell you the actual truth."_

 _"No," his arms tightened in their embrace, "you tell what you want the truth to be, not what it actually is."_

 _Despite the curses, the brunette's voice was soft in its utter dejection, "Sure, you're fregging right. I guess the real truth is I was your Sith-damn nuisance padawan and now that you're not obligated to_ deal _with me anymore, you don't have to_ talk _to me anymore either." He tried to push the arms around his torso away, "The only reason you pretend we're still friends is because that's the convention of the Order."_

 _Obi-Wan held his arms tight and tilted his forehead against the side of Anakin's head, "The truth is you don't get to dictate other people's reality. You were indeed my nuisance padawan, but you are also my friend. My_ best _friend, in spite of your nasty mouth, terrible temper, and erroneous assumptions. Why do you let things build up like this instead of saying something to me?"_

 _"I know you don't care."_

 _"Care about what? About our friendship? About you?" His fingers curled into the other man's black tunic, "I care about both."_

 _The whisper was barely audible, "No, you don't."_

 _He leaned his chin on the Tatooinian's shoulder, "Yes, I do."_

 _Anakin turned his face as far from Obi-Wan's as he could, "You have a funny way of showing it."_

 _"You don't exactly roll out the Wrodian carpet for me either, I hope you realize."_

 _Cobalt eyes squeezed shut, "Can we suspend the truth? Just for a moment. We can suspend it and you can lie to me."_

 _"No."_

 _"Just for a second."_

 _Obi-Wan twisted the cloth in his grip, "You are a seeker of truth and I am a giver of truth. There is no room between us for lies."_

 _The plea was unrepentant, "Just this one."_

 _"_ Especially _this one."_

 _Anakin was thankful the darkness hid the tears that buoyed to his eyes._

-::-::-

The front door finally opened and the motifs he'd become familiar with throughout the years of his life waltzed right on in.

Obi-Wan went straight to the main bedroom without addressing him at all. Refrain. Rejection. Some things never change.


	12. This Has Gone Too Far

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts/actions.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Ten: This Has Gone Too Far

Not a word. Not a glance. It was the cataclysm he dreaded. It was the abyss he knew would break open. It was nothing short of an apocalyptic _disaster_. He prayed to the Force for an aneurysm or cardiac arrest. If he would go the way of all flesh, sweat would stop oozing from every pore in his skin; his stomach wouldn't quiver like he was plummeting off the Farfalla skyscraper; his heart wouldn't feel too weak to pump blood. He grappled for the kitchen countertop to keep from collapsing. Tears obscured his vision. Not a word. Not even a glance. _Please, Cosmic Force, please, kill me where I stand._

The sound of the bedroom door snapping shut said everything Obi-Wan didn't. _What happened between us was an accident. I didn't know what I was saying. I don't ever want to talk to you again. I don't want you._ His eyes closed. He pushed away from the countertop. His eyes opened. _I don't love you._ The rejection was so reverberating that it rattled his bones.

 _Lamb, no suffering is worth Obi-Wan. Come to me and you'll never be lonesome again._

His hands violently rubbed over his face and hair. _Go away_ _._

 _The darkness will soothe your sorry, smarting soul. Come._

 _Leave me alone._

 _We both know you don't want to be alone. Give yourself to me and I will fend off the loneliness._

 _You're a deceiver._

 _And you're pathetic._ _Praying for death over that worthless Jedi? You're pathetic! When did you become a neutered mutt? Don't beg! Prove your love like a paladin! Crucify your impotent soul and bequeath your mortal flesh to me! I will take the power it holds and do wonders!_

 _Stop..._

 _He doesn't want you or your rancid Living Force! You are barren!_ _You have always been barren and so shall you remain until your last breath!_ _He hates your skin and what lurks beneath! He sees you for what you are, you profane swine! He will never bond with you again! Your energy makes him sick!_ _Stop breathing! You are less than nothing to him, fetid beast! He asked the Force to let him watch the light fade from your eyes! He wants you to die! He wants your breath to cease! Return to the cold blackness!_

Bare cybernetic feet dragged down the extra bedroom door closed. _The touch of you_ _reviles him! He had to scrub the feel of you from his memory! He doesn't want you! He will never want you! Die, heinous goblin!_

The coverlet was dragged from the bed. _He can't even look at your deformities! He'll never bond with your putrefied energy again! You are barren! He doesn't want you unless you are breathless in a body bag! He begs the Force to hack out your odious soul! Toss it into the flames, he cries, toss it into the black, blazing flames!_

The sheet popped off the mattress. _You repulse him, piteous lowlife! The hatred for you amasses within him each second you breathe! He will never touch your repugnant flesh again!_ It twisted, twisted. _He has never wanted you and never will_ _!_ Knotted. _You are alone! You have been alone since you slithered out of the womb! Die alone, you disgraceful, traitorous snake!_

A tiny voice smothered the banshee's wail. _Daddy_ , _I love you_.

More tears galloped down his cheeks and he lowered to his knees. As tears poured like the waterfalls of Akar Kesh and his shaky hands untwisted and unknotted the sheet, he knew what he needed to do. It was the most sensible course of action. _Freedom from_ _my indecisive seesawing is the first step towards contentment for you._

He knew he'd given mixed signals throughout the entire encounter eight hours earlier, but all the elation and fear battling inside him, the calamitous struggle between his heart and head, left no room for consistency. He wanted to explain why he shoved away from their first kiss even though _he_ initiated it, but he couldn't confess that a truculent voice in his head commanded him to _kill the Jedi_ while he'd been ravaging said Jedi. Then Obi-Wan turned away from him and something inside him _died_. His energy urgently lurched forward and soon enough, his body followed. _You have to know how much I love you._ When those wide emerald eyes stared at him in awe after he expressed his affections, the only thing he'd been capable of was locking their lips for a second time. _No coherency._

He'd made a complete fool out of himself and could never face his best friend again.

He stood from the ground to find something he could use as a substitute for a suitcase. It didn't have to be anything extravagant since he was only packing for himself. _Wait!_ His hand clapped against his cheek in disbelief. _Luke!_ He had to swing by the salt flat once the suns rose and pick up his son! He couldn't leave Luke with that dopey moisture farmer, especially since the buffoon would stroke out if he were to show up for a visit without Obi-Wan there to supervise. He dug in the storage closet for something large enough to fit a few of his and Luke's belongings. As he tossed boots, pillow cases, and other miscellaneous objects over his shoulder, he couldn't overlook the singular question his conscience posed. _Are you sure you're making the right choice?_ He leaned his forehead against the frame of the closet with a heavy exhale, "He told me to stop." It was why he wasn't given a word or a glance: Obi-Wan felt ashamed by their interaction.

The only way to survive the wreckage was to vacate the crash site.

He'd leave his lifeless heart and ego on the landing as parting gifts.

::::

In the first blush of the morning, the ceiling above the bedside table lit up from the illustrious flash of the comlink. Anakin considered ignoring it but thought better of the idea on the off-chance there was an emergency. He halted his funereal packing to press the blinking button of the device and a projection of Ahsoka immediately came into view.

Her voice was filled with an abnormally chipper bounce, "Hey, I called to tell you that I came across Master Yoda on Dagobah! You'll be glad to know he's in ship shape and hasn't changed _even a little_ _bit_! Can you believe I found him? I can't believe I _found him_!" She laughed, "I mean the chances of happening on him were even less than happening on _you_!"

He tried to force a smile, "Yeah, looks like it's your year, Snips."

The Togrutan didn't appear to notice his miserable mood, "I told him _everything._ I told him you're back on Squad Light Side and about the faceoff on Naboo."

"Wonderful," he monotonously commented.

The sides of her lips downturned. She thought her friend would surely be relieved and ecstatic to hear of Yoda's good health, particularly given the colossal guilt he felt for betraying his Jedi brethren. This news _certainly_ wouldn't have made him forlorn _,_ which meant he was down in the doldrums before she wired in. There were only four sources she was aware of that caused him depressive episodes: guilt about the War, guilt about deserting his children, the dark side, and Obi-Wan. Since their mutual friend was usually cemented at his side trying to commiserate with him during his episodes, she automatically knew Obi-Wan was the source. Her eyes tapered in concern, "How are things at the Kenobi-Skywalker homestead?"

"Historically accurate."

The white lines over her browbones raised, "Uh…I hope that means harmonious."

Anakin sat down on the side of the bed, providing an excellent view of his profile, "Why not?"

Though the emotionless response and stoic expression were less than expository, she could tell something _definitely_ happened, "Do you want to paint me a picture?"

There was a protracted silence before he croaked out, "He told me he _loves_ me. He told me his soul was made for mine."

Ahsoka's wide blue eyes blinked in astonishment, then she waited, and waited, _and waited_. She twisted her head from right to left, as though something passed her by, and hurriedly tried to think of how this could _possibly_ register as bad news. Still trying to process her old master's mystifying words, she very slowly assessed, "And…and you're _sad_ …about it? You're _upset…_ about it?"

"He took it back."

She tried to articulate a productive response but repeatedly resorted to hung-mouth shock. _That can't be right._ When Anakin's teeth gnashed his lips and his eyes squinted to dam his overflowing tear ducts, she attempted to speak again. However, after a couple jumps of her bottom lip, she found she could only manage a contrite, "Oh, _Anakin_."

Although nothing about Obi-Wan's alleged behavior held water, Anakin's pain was undeniable. She wished her hand could phase through the comlink to supportively pat the brunette's shoulder, but logic and psychotherapy were her only available means of comfort, "Are you _sure_ that's what happened? Did he _actually say_ he-"

"He doesn't have to explicitly say _My bad, Anakin, I'm delirious with cabin fever and you're the only person I've seen in five and a half years_. He's treated me like a ghost since he said it."

"You are _not_ the only person he has seen in five and a half years," she quipped. However, her fellow Forceful shook his head and leaned his forehead against his flesh hand, clearly not in a joking mood. She rapidly regained her sensitive demeanor, "Obi-Wan and basic emotion aren't on speaking terms most rotations, let alone Obi-Wan and advanced emotion. Try to give him time to-"

Anakin whipped towards her to frantically bellow, "If he wasn't confident in what he felt, he shouldn't have said anything! I keep telling myself I can handle this, that I can get my head above it, but I'm _drowning_. _I'm drowning_."

The stakes of this deteriorating conversation were irrefutable. Ahsoka knew if she couldn't assuage the disgraced Jedi, she would have to comm Obi-Wan. Since she would never be forgiven if she did, she tried to talk him down, "I meant he may be unsure _how to express_ what he feels, not unsure of his _feelings_." The steady increase of tears leaking from cobalt eyes made her address the eight-hundred-pound monkey-lizard in the room, "I know you're on a downer, but don't let it consume you. Think of Leia and Luke. You don't want to be imprisoned in darkness again."

The consternation seemed to resonate, "You're right. I can't. I _can't_. I'll hurt my little ones like I hurt my wife."

" _Wife_?" When the outburst received no positive or negative validation, the stunned spacer nodded to herself, "Ultraviolet bombshell. I'll admit it, _that one_ was an ultraviolet bombshell." Following a short recovery time, she reassembled her wits and relocated catlike eyes, " _Please_ listen to me this _once_. Give yourself space. Give Obi-Wan space. Allow the pain a little relief and you two can figure this out together after the swelling has gone down."

"He's taking all the space he can get. He won't even look me in the face."

"That's _so_ uncharacteristic of him. _Something_ barvy is in the works."

"He's ashamed."

"He's _not_ ashamed," she strongly assured and held up her hand in a _stop_ gesture. "You know he would _never_ have said those things if he didn't mean them."

"We kissed. He's ashamed he touched me."

"Oh, Force, no. _No_."

"That's why he won't look at me."

"No!" Ahsoka waved her flattened hands from side to side in a straight line, " _No_ , that's _not_ Obi-Wan. _That is not Obi-Wan._ He…he…I was trying not to say it outright, but he _loves_ you and has as long as I've _known_ you two. _Geonosis is frozen_ if he didn't mean this or he's ashamed of what he said or did. I am telling you with _the_ utmost certainty he is coping with something else."

"No offense, Snips, but you have _no idea_ what you're talking about. He only _thought_ he developed these feelings in the last few months because he _certainly_ didn't have them five and a half years ago."

It simply slipped out, "You are so purblind."

His gloved hand covered his flesh one as they settled against his forehead and shielded his eyes from scrutiny, "You weren't frelling there! He tells me he loves me then leaves the house for eight hours, comes back, and goes straight to bed without even _speaking_ to me! That's a _black and white, cut and dried_ message. It says: I got caught up in some unfamiliar emotion I misidentified as love, but I now realize that's _not_ what I felt and _I'd like to take back what happened._ "

She shook her head even though the motion wasn't seen, "You're doing that thing where you make _super_ giant assumptions, Anakin. You can't let your paranoia attribute motives to his actions or words." Her hands clasped together, "I am pleading on Obi-Wan's behalf: _please_ give him a chance to explain himself. Do _not_ jump the spring-gun and do something you'll regret before you talk to him about all this. _Talk to him_ and get the _truth_."

"What if the truth is even worse than-"

" _It isn't_. He _loves_ _you_. If you talk to him, he will make no bones about that, sure-fire."

"And if he's avoiding me because he _doesn't_ love me…what then?"

"Then I endorse a foot up his ass for kissing you."

This time, Ahsoka's jest managed to draw a small laugh. However, there was no smile on Anakin's lips when his hands dropped to reveal his reddened face, "I can't do it. I can't look him in the eye and….if he rejects me again, I think my heart will give out before the conversation ends."

"That's why you need to give yourself _space_. I didn't mean you should go to him _right this second_. Just when you both are a little less raw, you need to _talk_. Until you're able to, _do not_ make _any_ major decisions or start _any_ arguments. _I repeat_ : _do not make any major decisions or start any arguments_. That's an _order_ , Skyguy."

She easily caught the defiance on his face. _I'm conversant with that gleam in your eye._ "You're already planning something." His lack of answer gave an answer. "What were you planning to jaw him with?"

"I wasn't going to say anything."

 _Yeah, I know how your phraseology works._ She crossed her arms, "What were you planning to _do_ then?"

"Leave."

Her cognitive processes refused to digest this morsel of information at first. _You would leave him after he told you he loves you? After he gives you what you've been waiting for for like a hundred and fifty years? Did the dark side scramble your brains?_ Disbelief was thick on her tongue, "Without saying anything. Do you have any idea what kind of _devastation_ that would render?" Her voice lowered indignantly, "Or is that the name of the game?"

The reply was almost inaudible, "I think he'd be grateful. Less drama, less pressure, less-"

Tact was no longer a concern, "You're out of your _fucking_ mind. If you _left_ , especially without _saying anything_ … well, if I didn't know Obi-Wan would search high heaven for you, I'd say he'd end up in a straitjacket." She gripped her headdress in frustration, " _Do not make any major decisions or start any arguments. Listen to me, Force-dammit._ "

"He doesn't want me."

"Yes, he _does_. Come _on_ , Skyguy, don't drop the grav-ball in the final play." The back of her grey-gloved hand rubbed over her forehead in frustration. If he was going to hunker down and block out what she had to say, she would break through his defenses. _Time to tackle this bosh like a Thrasher._ "What were you planning to do with Luke? Leave him with _Owen Lars_?"

The hostile spark in his eye could be seen from the Deep Core, "He would be coming with me."

 _End zone._ "Do you not even _care_ how much Obi-Wan loves that kid?" Anakin's shocked reaction made her snort, "If shaking your head and blinking your eyes ultra-fast like that is you trying to say Obi-Wan _doesn't_ love Luke, I'm going to come to Tatooine to kick you in the prosthetic shins." One of her hands lifted in front of her face and snapped multiple times as though trying to awaken him from a daze, "Obi-Wan loves Luke because he loves _you_! He loves any part of you _including your children_. Have you completely repressed _why_ we found you? And now you think it's a good idea to leave and take _everything he's ever loved_?"

"You're mixing facts with non-facts."

"Do you have some self-defeating mantra looping in your head?" The Shilian titled her head back with a hefty sigh. _You are where subtlety goes to die._ "Do you love Obi-Wan?" The wordless stare she received let her know she held his attention, "If something _terrible_ is going on with him, if he's in as much pain as you are, would you ever be able to forgive yourself if you up and left? Did you ever think maybe, _just maybe_ , he's scared and confused?"

"Haven't you considered _I'm_ the reason he's scared, confused, and in pain?" His eyes rolled towards the ceiling in an effort to force back tears, " _I'm_ the agent of terror and misery here. It'd be better if I left."

Ahsoka's hands slapped over her temples, "Why are you being so obdurate?"

"Because it would be better if I were gone."

"You are completely veering-"

"I think I should finish stringing the bedsheets around my neck and end my reign of terror and misery."

"That's _not_ funny, An…" The rebuke fell out of her mouth when the words sunk in. Her hands helplessly clasped over her chest and her eyes puffed up with horror, "Did you say _finish_?"

Silence had never been so deafening.

"Don't you _ever_ hurt yourself," the Togrutan demanded through a mouthful of marbles. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sob or bop her old master and her voice seemed to reflect the ambivalence, " _Never_ defile your holy temple. It is the shelter for the divine light of your Living Force." The image of the crestfallen man on the other end of the comm-call caused prickling in the corners of her eyes, "I _freaking mean it_ , Anakin. No matter how upset you become, about anything, at any point, I don't want you to consider s-self-harm as an option _for even a second_." She quietly cleared her throat and spoke more authoritatively, "That's _not_ an option, okay?"

Anakin knew he couldn't tell her about the demon in his head, but he could take one cup deception, one cup morbid thoughts, one teaspoon his longing for Obi-Wan's energy and bake an explanation, "I wanted his energy so much and I knew he would never bond with me when he wouldn't even acknowledge my existence. I thought, you'll never feel his energy again; you're barren; you're _barren_. And the emptiness felt like it was tearing my bones out and I wanted to die."

 _I knew you two would become too dependent on each other's energy._ Her fingers indicatively tapped against her chest, "If you feel barren, _tell me, tell Obi-Wan_ , we will be barren with you. I know I'm not always there and that you and Obi-Wan are going through a blue funk, but you're _never_ alone. I don't care what state any of our relationships with each other are in, this is something that transcends _everything_."

Anakin hated himself for the reflective pools in his old padawan's caring eyes. He had no idea why he told her about the actions he almost took a couple hours earlier. There was no reason for hitching her a ride on his long, strange journey to the bottom of existence. Rather than spill any more of his dark, dirty secrets, he allayed, "I was really upset; I wasn't thinking straight. It was mostly passing thoughts. I pulled the coverlet off the bed, but that's it. There were no further actions, only thoughts."

"You'll call me if you ever have thoughts like that again, won't you?"

"Yes."

"I can see you're in a great deal of pain, Master. If it gets too much to handle, go to Obi-Wan. I know you think he doesn't want to see you right now, but _nothing_ matters more to him than your wellbeing. And if you really can't make yourself face him, _bleep me_. I will stay plugged in and talk to you for a week straight if you need me to." She tried to offer a smile but was sure it fell flat, "Get out of that room. Meditate, go see Luke; do _anything_ other than what you're doing right now."

"I can't leave the room right now." He assumed a haunting grin, "So much resentment and bitterness is augmenting inside me. I'm dangerous."

Her brows furrowed in dismay, "How were you planning to leave with Luke in this head space?"

The bizarre smile remained despite tumbling tears, "I don't know. There wasn't a working plan. I guess you're right: I have lost my mind. Ever since I returned to the light, I'm out of control. I can't make decisions anymore. I didn't plan anything; I was just going to _go._ How would I possibly plan something when all I do is _cry_? I cry like a helpless child about _love,_ which is something I can't even participate in because it invites destruction. And then I can't _not_ love because it invites destruction, too. I _hate_ it. I hate being human. I hate being able to _feel._ I'm filled with _so much hatred_ I could rip somebody's Sith-fucking throat out and have a good laugh about it."

 _What the frip is he talking about?_ Ahsoka determined further engagement was wise until she could find a straw to grasp onto. _Step_ _one, put your head on ice. Step two, sic Obi-Wan on your ass._ She consciously tried to strip any emotion from her voice, "Tell me what you're thinking right now."

"I've chased Obi-Wan away with how crazy I am."

"Why do you think that?"

"He told me he loved me, then I swear he looked straight at my mouth and…I felt like I… I lost it. I have no control of myself."

 _Easier than expected._ "Anakin, Obi-Wan is a _very_ assertive person, as assertive as you but with manners. He would have told you to stop if he didn't want you to-"

"He did tell me to stop."

The mission was temporarily cast out of orbit. The only thing she could think of to have made Obi-Wan _not kiss Anakin after finally getting the chance_ was the literal loss of a limb. She couldn't even come up with a preposterous, convoluted reason the Stewjonian was _giving Anakin the runaround_ after the fact. None of the Jedi's behavior added up. _I have no control of myself._ Her brows raised. Perhaps they kissed and Anakin got too handsy. What if Obi-Wan asked Anakin to back off, but the disgraced Jedi hadn't? Could this be why the Stewjonian was in disarray? Her throat clearing was hardly audible through the comlink connection, "Did you?"

Anakin stared at her like she'd grown Kryat dragon fangs, "Of course."

 _Theory one buried._ "What did he say after that?"

"He said the dark side influenced me to speak and act."

 _He wasn't sure of your autonomy!_ Her spirits lifted exponentially, as she was expecting something _much_ worse to be going on. "Did you tell him that wasn't the case?"

"I told him I've loved him since I was a child and basically laid out a winding timeline. Then he left."

 _I see now. Multi-issue mess._ Her psychotherapy interrogation couldn't have come out better if it had been scripted! Her toes wiggled in avid relief, "Don't you think it's possible he couldn't correlate what you were saying with what caused him to think the dark side was influencing you? Or maybe it's not even that complicated. Maybe he was just overwhelmed."

"Out of everything I've put him through..." Anakin snorted with an eyeroll. "Puberty, attempted murder… no, it was saying _I love you_ that sent him over the edge."

"I'm fairly certain Obi-Wan is a human, so it's safe to say he went through puberty himself. That's something he can handle. And physical violence? It's spelled J-E-D-I. He will still maintain composure and act intuitively even if you try to kill him. But _this_? He obviously made peace with _his_ feelings, but he wasn't actually prepared for _yours,_ or some narrative where he was the object of your affection since childhood. Keep in mind he has basically _no experience_ in romance and the slightest obstruction or surprise is _going_ to freak him out. He's used to being in control as much as _you_ are, you know."

"If he really loved me, my _feelings_ wouldn't be such a mind-fucking problem for him."

 _Why do you have to be more difficult to handle than vibro mace?_ She carefully chose her words, "You said you'd die of a broken heart if he rejected you again. Why did you say that?" As expected, the other Forceful did not answer. _We both know the answer_. "When we brought you home, I asked him what would happen if it turned out your return was a hoax. Guess what he said? He said if he lost you again, it would _kill_ _him_. _Why_ do you think he said that?" _We both know the answer, don't we?_ "Obi-Wan would _never_ _intentionally do_ _anything_ to jeopardize his relationship with you. Give him a little time to stagger past whatever muck he's in and I bet my bottom credit he will come to you." She gave a reassuring smile, "Everything will work out."

The shake of his head was negligible. _No, it won't. It never does._

::::

Despite the recurrent, frequent urges to flee, he stayed in the house and endured the emotions rising like lava in the volcano of his soul. At the very least, pondering the long-winded conversation between him and Ahsoka gave him a break from agonizing over Obi-Wan's evasiveness. He didn't invest much in what she said to him, but there was one suggestion he thought it best to heed: space. It took every dendrite, every axion, every muscle fiber, every electrochemical cell in his body to abstain from kindling any feuds or carrying out any life-altering conducts. He repeatedly told himself that he would keep his mouth shut until Obi-Wan was prepared to approach him. When that time came, he would face the tense situation like a mature adult.

However, when the Jedi sat a cup of grub-tea on the coffee table and softly submitted _I made you some tea,_ it was obvious his maturity level was nowhere close to what it needed to be. _Tea?_ Tea _? This is your karking icebreaker?_

"I don't _want any_ ," he snarled in that snotty tone he knew the older Forceful disliked.

Malachite eyes glued to the teacup, "I'll leave it on the table in case-"

"You know," he scooted to the edge of the couch cushion, " _some people_ say what they mean and _I am saying_ I don't stanging _want any_. _I_ won't change my mind."

Obi-Wan felt the hurt and dander hurled at him. He thought his drink offering would be an innocuous olive branch, but it was clearly tone-deaf. Eight hours after the Love Scene, he'd gotten a glimpse of Anakin's face for only a few seconds as he entered through the front door. The tearstains and splotchy, red marks made him feel ashamed for how he acted. How could he have tormented the one he loved so brutally? _I don't ever want to do that again_. For the very same reason as the previous night, he retreated from the sitting room.

Though Anakin's serrated words were discouraging, he knew he must endure this delicate balancing act of allotting plenty of breathing room but seizing any opportunity to reconnect. The next morning, he decided to take another chance. He cooked Anakin's favorite breakfast meal- panna cakes smothered in poptree syrup and plain nuna sausages- but there was no sight or sound of the brunette until nighttime.

On the third rotation after the Love Scene, Anakin came in search of food around noon, sporting bags as dark as coal under his eyes. Obi-Wan patiently waited until his housemate re-emerged some hours later to calmly walk into the extra bedroom and sparsely spritz lavender oil on the insomniac's pillow. _Rest well._

The following morning, the Stewjonian heard strained moans all the way from the sitting room. He sprinted to the back-bedroom and, against his better judgement, quietly cracked the door open. The source of his concern appeared to be wholly unconscious, moaning in discomfort. _One of those nightmares_. Obi-Wan opened the door all the way and tiptoed to the bed. He kneeled beside it and closed his eyes to seek a meditative state. Anakin's erratic energy was easily found and it reached out wildly for his. He gladly tied ribbons of their energies as tightly as he could. Even though he would prefer Anakin to be aware and reciprocating in their bond, he was still relieved to connect their energies, even if only for the two minutes it took to pacify his friend into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. He hastily left the room afterwards.

Although love was not a practice he had experience with, he knew he was doing this all wrong. _Have I ever been more inadequate?_ Even though he tried to stay resilient in the face of this disaster, the infinite sadness and longing within his heart ripened with every rotation he failed to make things right between him and Anakin. Little by little, no matter how hard he tried to keep it together, he was decompensating.

:-:-:

 _"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan? Hey, I need you to look at me."_

 _Anakin frantically rolled them over and gently slapped a bristly cheek before jabbing his fingers against the Jedi's throat. His hand quickly moved under the man's nose. Crystalline droplets streamed from his eyes as he leaned close, "Wake up. I-I-please. Please, Obi-Wan."_

:-:-:

He awoke in shrouding tears. _No, no, no, no_. He frantically shifted towards the side of the bed. He needed to check Obi-Wan's vitals! By the time he stood up, he recalled the dismal state of their relationship and anxiously sat back down on the bed. _You're cracking up! You're losing it!_ Within seconds he was back on his feet, manically pacing. _No, it was the start of a premonition. It was the same as Mom's, the same as Padmé's._ His hands barely prevented a nosedive when he fell against the side of his desk. His body shook and his ragged breaths quickened. _No, no, no, not my Obi-Wan._ He harshly smacked the side of his head. Another time. And another time. "It was a nightmare. You're overwrought. It's only a nightmare. You're afraid of losing him."

Something from inside his visceral depths screamed back _it wasn't a nightmare_.

::::

His eyebrows knitted. _Strange._ He finished fastening his belt and one of his hands restlessly smoothed his freshly-washed hair back. _I don't feel right_. Harrowing flutters in his throat and heart told him he should go check on Anakin. _No, you've been sneaking behind him far too much. You need to stop. It's gone from conciliatory to creepy._ The earsplitting sound of his wrist comlink effectively ended his self-reprimand. It had been going off incessantly for the past two or three rotations, but he paid it no mind. The only person he wanted to talk to was two rooms away. Only about a minute after the device quieted, a scraping noise, like metal on wood, assaulted his ears. Before he could place the atrocious sound, a head popped through his window. His hand instinctively reached in the direction of his lightsaber but ceased in its endeavor when he realized the invading head belonged to Ahsoka Tano.

He testily put his hands on his hips, " _What_ are you _doing_? How'd you get the window open? It was locked!"

"Oh, _Noxion's stripes_ , it's not like I used to be a Jedi apprentice!" The little Forceful reached an arm into the room and pointed to his desktop, "Did your comlink knuckle under?"

"Are _you_ the one that's been harassing me?"

Her boneless hand flapped with every word she emphasized, "After like, _I don't know_ , the forty-fifth call, didn't you think that _maybe_ somebody had something _high-priority_ to tell you?"

"If it's so crucial, why didn't you comm Anakin?"

Somberness shaded her eyes and her hand drew back against the window seal, "Because it's _about_ Anakin. Have you not noticed the engine's running without anybody behind the wheel?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows creased, "What?"

"His broadband antenna isn't picking up any radio waves."

"I don't-"

" _He's gone bonkers, bananas, crackers, nutty as an Ettel cake, stark raving-_ "

Obi-Wan crisply tilted his head forward, " _I get it_." He turned away to straighten up items on the built-in shelf in a bid to seem as normal as possible. _She may be here to_ _talk about Anakin, but that doesn't mean she necessarily knows what's going on. Maybe it's unrelated._ With minimal hope, he adopted a nonchalant tone, "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

When he ran out of things to shuffle on the shelf, he turned, not expecting to find Ahsoka halfway through his window. Once she wedged and shimmied through, she made it to her feet and jumped straight to the point, "I flew FTL to get here after hours and hours of static stacked on static and I'm not even going to act like I give a rot about pretenses or etiquette. I know how you feel about Anakin, so why are you avoiding him like the Karatos plague after you _finally_ told him you love him?"

Obi-Wan glowered, "With all due respect, what happens between Anakin and me is _our_ business."

"Yes, it is, until he _makes_ it my business as well."

"What has he told you?"

"Everything, but how about we start with him spouting out that he's _filled with so much hatred that he could rip somebody's throat out and have a good laugh about it._ "

Jade orbs frenziedly shifted back and forth in deliberation, "Were his eyes recolored?"

"No, this was definitely Anakin talking. He told me he's dangerous and feels out of control ever since he returned to the light. I tried to comm you to tell you to check on him, but you _ignored_ _my beeps_. Been doing _quite a b_ _it of ignoring_ lately, haven't you?"

"I'm going to _ignore_ that cheap shot. Why didn't you go straight to _his_ window?"

She exasperatedly groaned, " _You and Anakin_ need to have a _chat_ , Obi-Wan."

"I was trying to find a way to engage him without causing a fuss."

If Anakin's condition wasn't so dire, she would have laughed, "You know how he is. It doesn't matter _how_ you approach this, he's _going_ to raise hell, and shake some extraterrestrial planes if he's in the mood for it."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and wandered across the room to sit down in the desk chair as though the weight of his next statement was too heavy to hold, "I've never caused him that much pain before. His eyes were swollen…"

The Shilian took a couple steps forward to stand in front of her glum friend, "The distance is hurting him more than anything."

"Candidly, in my core, I was hoping he would come to me when he wasn't so distraught."

 _If only you knew how twisted up he is because of all this step and jive_ _._ She knew she would have to convince Obi-Wan to be the mover and shaker without exposing Anakin's suicidal thoughts. If she brought them up, the Tatooinian would never come to her, or probably anybody, if similar thoughts beleaguered him again. She wagged her finger at the older Forceful, "You know him better than that. Getting him to back down is like trying to herd vro-cats."

"It's not the act of backing down that bothers him; it's the underlying principle that it makes him weak if he does."

She grinned elfinly, "This is why _you_ should be psychoanalyzing him instead of _me_. You and him are so close, you know his motives off-hand."

He deadpanned, "Elementary psychology, Miss Tano. People who were slaves tend to grasp onto any amount of power they can. If the power they've managed to attain, no matter how picayune, is taken from them, they feel victimized and weak as they did when they were subjugated."

"Stop pretending like you don't know every molecule of his mind," the renounced Jedi curtly laughed. "Don't you think you should get the Greehu wheel turning, especially since you know he's never going to cave in?"

"Just this once, I wish he would come to me."

"I don't think it'll go down like that." Her index finger moved in little circles beside her temple, "He's lunching on the luna-weed right now."

"Stop that."

"What?"

"You know very well _what_."

"You two are no fun when you're estranged. Please, for the sake of my humor, talk to him."

Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, "He hasn't been sleeping the past few rotations. I think he finally crashed this morning. I don't want to wake him."

"Fine, but as soon as he wakes up, talk to him _pronto_. I'm afraid he might...do something very, _very_ stupid if you don't."

He chose not to comment on her ominous insistence, "I don't know what I'm going to say."

"Try telling him you love him, for starters. He doesn't think you meant it or that you meant to kiss him. Oh, _come on_ , Obi-Wan, there's no need to blush like that. There's one more thing, and I shouldn't really be telling you, but for some reason, he doesn't think you love his kids either."

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and angle his flushed, confounded face towards the floor, "I will speak to him once he wakes up. Thank you for bending the throttle to get here."

"Something had to give."

::::

The extra bedroom door closed, which meant it was the time of reckoning. He was going to undress his soul and he had no idea how Anakin would react. Despite Ahsoka's reassurance, he knew better than anyone how unpredictable his best friend was. Though there was no way to tell how events would unfold, it didn't matter. All that mattered was he couldn't hide behind fear anymore. _I don't care what's happened between us or what I have to sacrifice, I will not let you continue to wallow in pain. I will do what I must to take care of you._

Anakin walked through the sitting room to the kitchen. There were indistinct rustles and squeaks from the hinges of the cabinets, indicating a search for food. Soon enough, the younger Forceful placed a bowl on the kitchen table and sat down. _It's now or never._ He took a cavernous breath, squared his shoulders, and made his way to the chair directly beside his housemate. Anakin side-glanced him inquisitively but seemed to lose interest after the second bite of barkmeal. _What do I say?_ Another bite was taken. _Try telling him you love him_. His stomach knotted when he nervously, gingerly, declared, "I love you."

The Tatooinian's mechno-hand froze with a spoonful of food in midair.

His tired, desperate eyes pled as much as his words, "I know this…I know I'm to blame for the last few rotations, but I can't take much more of this torture."

The spoon slowly lowered to the bowl, "You should have thought of that before you opened your myopic mouth."

"I got caught up-"

The legs of Anakin's chair screeched against the flextile when he pushed away from the table, "I figured as much. It takes a decade of pleading and threatening to get you to admit you hold _some form_ of attachment to me. I knew you were talking out of your ass when you said-"

" _No_ , I wasn't," Obi-Wan frantically scooted his chair towards his combative comrade. "I don't mean I got caught up in some foreign emotion I didn't understand. I mean all I could think about was you jetting away from me to involve yourself in some Sith death match. I couldn't handle the thought of…of losing you." He reached his hand forwards to establish physical contact but feared scaring the brunette off and quickly grabbed the edge of the oka-wood table instead. "I told you that. I told you I couldn't lose you again." _I will lay myself bare for you._ "I didn't know how to tell you at the time, so I said the only words I knew, that I love you, but I'm telling you now because I need you to know: you are the light of my life."

"That's why you walked out on me, too, _right_? Because I am so damn _vital_ to you?"

Even though a part of him expected the barbed words, it still stung to be pricked by them. What he _hadn't_ expected was the inclination he would feel to _fight._ He threw caution to the wind and grabbed the other man's hand, "You _are_ vital to me. You are as vital as the oxygen in my blood."

Anakin yanked his hand out of reach and spoke at an elevated volume, "Why can't you admit you _regret_ what happened?"

The blonde slid out of his chair to bend one knee to the floor beside a bare cybernetic foot. His hand settled on a prosthetic knee and his gaze hooked with impudent sky-blue eyes, "The _only_ thing I regret is leaving. I shouldn't have walked out like that."

"Then why did you?"

He maintained their eye contact to convey how serious he was, "In less than five minutes, you destroyed my perception of reality. It felt like everything I'd ever known about our relationship was a lie. It _was_ a lie."

Anakin irately slapped the battle-worn hand from his knee and gripped the sides of the seat of his chair to lean forward, "I am _so franging sorry_ we can't all be so Force-damn honest like _you_ , Obi-Wan! Oh _wait_ , you _lied to me_ too, didn't you?"

The Jedi's hand encircled a mechanical ankle, "I'm not trying to assign blame for the last twenty years between us, Anakin. I'm trying to explain why I…I was in shock. I left the house because I needed to process our feelings and decisions, how they affected our lives. I panicked."

The laughing scoff given was offset by dripping tears, "You were panicking for _four motherfucking rotations_? You are full of _mendacious_ _shit_!"

"I'm being honest," his head shook and his unoccupied hand reached up to wipe a tear-soaked cheek.

However, Anakin again smacked his hand, this time before it could make contact, "If that's your honest answer, then _fuck you_!"

"Are you serious? I-"

"I was ready to take Luke and _leave_ because you acted like you were _ashamed_ by what happened between us!"

 _He doesn't think you meant it._ The warnings from earlier that morning ingeminated in Obi-Wan's head like broken holomessages and he knew they must be refuted, discredited, and laid to waste. The hand that had been whacked in mid-air curled around the closest cybernetic calf, "I am _not_ ashamed, could _never_ be ashamed, of touching or loving you. It's _nothing_ like that. I have a hard time… communicating what I feel. I spent thirty-four years in expressive suppression because that's how I was trained and fostered. I didn't…I never questioned my upbringing or allowed myself to examine my natural emotions until after a decade of friendship with you." His hand slid to the front of Anakin's leg, coming to rest on the mechno-knee his other hand had been swatted from, "I know you probably want a more attractive explanation, but there isn't one. I hit the ceiling and I didn't know how to get my feet back on the floor. I…I don't know what I'm doing. But don't ever mistake my ignorance for shame."

The lack of response was more painful than any spur his old padawan could have concocted, but he knew if he backed down now, the fight was lost. _Everything's lost._ He cut open his chest to access the only weapon of war he was willing to use, "I didn't mean to hurt you. And I don't know how to take it back. _Tell me_ …tell me what I need to do to earn your forgiveness and convince you to give this, _us,_ a shot."

"There's no _us_ and there never will be."

This resistance only animated his warrior spirit, "If I could go back, I wouldn't have walked out, but I can't go back, so I need you to tell me what you want me to do."

" _Drop it._ I want you to drop it," the younger Force-wielder again pushed the hand on his knee away and scooted his chair back further, disconnecting his ankle from the Stewjonian's gentle arrest. "Forget everything I said to you and forget everything that happened between us."

 _The more you retreat, the more I will advance._ "I could have a prefrontal leukotomy and I'd still _never_ forget the feel of your skin on mine." He used the one foot he had on the ground to slowly inch himself forward, "I don't _want_ to forget. I need... tell me what I need to do for you to forgive my foolishness."

Anakin broke their eye contact, "A relationship between us would be worthless. It could never outweigh the potency of darkness."

The viperish denunciation was like a knife to the chest, but _there's always wounds in war._ "It doesn't much matter at this point whether it could or not. This has gone too far. I feel too strongly about you and you feel too strongly for me. Even if we don't act on it, we already are and will remain susceptible to the dark side."

"We can't do this."

"Why not?"

"I've already told you why."

"When have you ever lived your life in fear of the dark side?"

The fact his excuses weren't working ignited the wick to Anakin's wrath, "Four rotations ago, you _rejected_ this. You rejected _me_. You've _been rejecting me_ for the past four rotations!"

Without intention, Obi-Wan again clutched the other man's knee, "I told you-"

Flesh fingers harshly encircled his wrist, "So, _what_? You _explain_ yourself so I _forgive_ you?"

"I didn't say that. I asked you what I need to do for your forgiveness and I'm asking again. Name it. I'll do it."

Anakin released Obi-Wan's arm and leaned as far back in his chair as he could, "I don't want _a kriffing thing_ from you. Go back to acting like I don't _exist_ and _stop_ bothering me."

 _No, there can be no retreat._ Obi-Wan slid across the kitchen floor in a flash. He ended up on his knees directly in front of Anakin with his hands firmly gripping either side of the seat of the man's chair, "I know what you're doing. You're trying to push me away because you're afraid I'm going to hurt and abandon you again. You need reassurance and I want to give it to you. What do you want me to do?"

Anakin leaned forward to tower over the Stewjonian, "Now you suddenly want to play the role of the White Jedi Knight? Where have you _been_ for the _last four rotations_?" He scooted the chair back until it slammed against the kitchen countertop, creating enough distance that he was able to rise to his feet. His voice dropped an octave, " _Thirteen Force-damn words about fucking tea_! That's _it_! That's the only thing you've fucking said to me! And even then, you _still_ wouldn't fucking look me in the face!" His tone became more frantic as the Jedi stood from the ground, "You can't fucking look me in the _face_? That's not fucking good enough, Obi-Wan! _Eighteen_ _fucking years between us_ says _that's not fucking good enough_! You've been fucking with my head for _four rotations_ and _I fucking deserve better than that_!"

The return-fire came out angrier than intended, " _Please forgive me_ for my _inexperience at love and relationships_ ; I'm not _particularly sure_ how I'm supposed to _act or feel_!"

The fallen Jedi's face was still contorted in fury when he tried to take his leave.

Obi-Wan didn't allow more than a few steps before he gripped Anakin's mechno-wrist and encircled an arm around his friend's small waist. _If you need me naked on this battlefield, that's what I'll be._ "All I knew was I hurt you. I wanted to give you space and wait until you came to me, but I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to set things straight because you _do_ deserve better than the past few rotations. You deserve to know I _meant_ what I said to you. _I love you_. You are my _soulmate_. I _still_ feel that way, at this very moment, and I will always feel that way."

Both of his arms enfolded around Anakin's waist. Immense joy filled him when the volatile Force-sensitive made no protest and gently gripped the sleeves over his biceps, "What's the real reason you're saying you don't want to try this? If it's because I tried to backtrack that night, I am _sorry_. I know _I panicked_ isn't a savory justification, but it was like my life was a part of an alternate reality I had no idea existed. I felt powerless. I felt like my life happened without me even being there. As soon as the door closed, I knew I'd made a mistake. That's why I stayed out so long. I was trying to figure what to do to…to take it back. When I returned and saw how red your face was…I didn't want to cause you more pain.

"I didn't know how to articulate what I was feeling or thinking and I was afraid if I tried to explain everything, why I left, why I was panicked…I'm still not doing it right," he sighed as he stared into tear-brimmed cerulean eyes. "I'm still causing you to cry. But even if it entails you screaming _fuck you_ in my face, we have to talk, Anakin. If there's anything I've realized in the last few rotations, it's that we _have_ to talk openly to each other about this. About _a lot_ of things." A sole tear slunk down a sun-kissed cheek and he was sure all the fight in him was gone, "I can't stand the separation between us anymore, especially when I know you're hurting."

After a couple minutes in impregnable stillness and silence, Anakin's mechno-hand curled around the side of Obi-Wan's neck and he tilted their foreheads together, though he didn't have the wherewithal to make eye contact, "You're my soulmate, too, amanica."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if his heart had stopped or not and somehow it didn't matter one way or the other. Fights, pain, fear- it was all forgotten in that moment. _I just want to kiss you._ He instinctively drew closer to Anakin, but a leather-gloved index finger pressed against his lips. He froze, reading the message loud and clear. The Tatooinian lowered his finger and closed his eyes, "There's evil inside of me, more consuming with every moment. I will _never_ let myself harm you. _Never_. Since I destroy everything I touch, I should touch nothing."

"So, all this is about Senator Amidala."

Anakin threw all his weight backwards to disconnect their embrace. He tried to walk around the other side of the table, but Obi-Wan grabbed his flesh hand and refused to let go even when he dragged the Jedi a couple feet in an attempt to get loose.

Obi-Wan's battle instinct reawakened, "Don't, don't… We can talk about something else, anything else… I can't go another night without hearing your voice." This emotionally bald admittance seemed to break through the mounting emotions. Though there were no other signs of surrender, Anakin stopped tugging him through the kitchen. "Talk to me about something else."

So much time passed he wasn't sure he'd get a response. He was somewhat surprised by the quiet query, "Why did you tell me to stop?"

"Your eyes recolored. I wasn't going to let you kiss me and touch me with even the _slightest_ possibility that the dark side was coercing you to do it."

" _I_ wanted to kiss you. I can't help it if my emotions and energy get out of whack when your tongue is in my mouth."

He felt heat build in his cheeks, "I-I'm sorry. I should have realized how upset-"

"If I get to kiss you, I don't care if you put a lightsaber through my pancreas."

The heat spread to his ears, "I'd kiss you often if you permitted it."

"No."

"You're saying-"

"I'm saying _no_ ," Anakin let go of his hand and took a few steps back. "We can't do this."

"Anakin-"

"Stop _,_ Obi-Wan. I'm done explaining myself."

Anakin made it all the way into the sitting room this time before Obi-Wan got ahold of him. The jade-eyed Forceful swooped in from the side to twist a hand into the black tunic over his abdomen, meld a hand against the side of his neck, and puzzle their lips together. Despite the urgency, the kiss was gentle. It wasn't anything like the demanding, desperate kisses they shared rotations before. It was a tender request for affection, a delicate reminder that the need between them was more potent than any pain or fear.

When their mouths parted, Obi-Wan softly demanded, "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to be with me."

Anakin's head was still reeling, but he tried to rise to the challenge. He peered into pleading eyes then soundlessly declared, "I don't want to be with you."

He knew his gaze ended up on the bottom of the blonde's eye sockets right as he said it.

Obi-Wan knew it, too.

"Look me _in the eye_."

He again tried to comply with the demand, but this time, he couldn't establish eye contact for even a second.

Obi-Wan had never been so happy to see his dear friend in defeat. His hands flattened under Anakin's jaws and their lips interlocked. Heavy chests, contracting muscles, the intimacy of their lips touching, of their breaths in each other's mouths, of their tongues slowly caressing.

 _H_ _e's vulnerable. Now's your chance, you coward._ Anakin broke their lip lock and stepped out of reach. He wiped the other man's saliva from his lips and shook his head, "We can't."

He made a mad dash for his room. _It wasn't a nightmare. I'm going to hurt you like I hurt Padmé._

::::

He furiously chopped away at the Ojomian onion and tried to dissect the past six hours. Where did he go wrong? There was a second when he was sure he'd convinced Anakin to forgive him and to give a relationship between them a go. He pulled every maneuver he could think of: honesty, bargaining, insistence, making it clear how much he cared. He knew what happened to Senator Amidala was the deep-seated issue, but what could he do to confront that? He would never be able to erase the past. _There has to be something else I can do._

He couldn't afford any more mistakes and he didn't have any more time to waste. _I was ready to take Luke and leave_. He almost lost _everything_ because of his inaction and if he didn't find a way to set things right, who was to say their strained relationship wouldn't work Anakin up to the point of leaving again? If he'd known Anakin was about to hurry away with Luke, he would have _never_ hung back like he did. He thought he was doing _the considerate thing;_ he didn't want to poke and prod too much after what he'd done. Now he could see he should have gone straight back through that door, taken Anakin into his arms, and _talked_ , even if it resulted in a screaming match and tears. Unfortunately, hindsight wasn't very useful and he still wasn't sure what to do to convince his soulmate they belonged together. _To convince you I'd follow you to the ends of the cosmos if you left me._

Without warning, two mismatched arms shot out from behind him to box him in against the kitchen counter. The knife in his hand froze. Concern grew when Anakin's head nestled between his shoulders, at the base of his neck. He placed the knife on the cutting board and rotated his head to the side, trying to discern his housemate's disposition. As he opened his mouth to launch an investigation, his would-be interrogee spoke.

"It speaks to me."

His eyebrows furrowed, "What speaks to you?"

"The dark side of the Force."

He gripped Anakin's wrists, "Right now? In what way?"

"No, not right now. I hear it randomly. It's almost like inner dialogue."

"How long has this been going on?"

"I first heard it within hours after returning to the light. The first time."

"Why have you decided to tell me this now?"

"You laid your heart and soul at my mercy. The least I can do is tell you the truth."

Obi-Wan fastened their fingers together, "What does it say to you?"

"It shames me. Reminds me of the carnages I've committed." Heavy breaths seeped through the back of his shirt and fused against his skin, "Taunts me how I killed my wife and I'll kill you, too."

He turned within Anakin's arms and hurriedly bundled the perturbed man into a tight embrace, "That's not going to happen." He kissed a dark eyebrow, "Forgive me, love. You wouldn't be in such a shape if I hadn't shut you out like I did."

"With everything I've done in the eighteen years between us, you owe me nothing."

"My life would have been hollow had you never been a part of it. I owe you everything."

"No relationship with you could _ever_ be worthless. I'm sorry I-"

"No, you don't need to apologize for being upset. I walked out on you when you needed me. You had a right to be upset. But no matter how angry we are or perceive each other to be, we can talk to one another. That's something we have to remember, something we have to abide by."

"Are we even capable of being honest with one another anymore?"

"I can honestly say I love you and Luke. I love both of the twins." A soft hand cradled the side of Anakin's head, "I love you and separation between you and me is limbo."

The younger Forceful admiringly grinned. _How did you get so shrewd, Ahsoka?_ After such a stupendous declaration, he couldn't resist pushing his luck, "We can start meditating together again, can't we?"

Obi-Wan immediately turned to lead them across the sitting room and sat down on the couch with the brunette curling against his side. Anakin's head rested on his shoulder and cybernetic legs bridged over his lap. An arm stretched across his chest and a cybernetic hand hooked over the opposite shoulder. He made no objections as their bodies tangled, knowing Anakin needed the closeness. _I need the closeness_. He cradled an arm around the slighter man's back and weaved his other hand into tangled curls. Once they were settled, his voice came out in mellifluous tides, "The Force is around us."

Their joint meditation stretched on for nearly two hours. By the time they came back to reality, Anakin's hand was entrenched in a tan tunic and a trance-inducing heartbeat was under his ear. He knew he didn't deserve this incredible heart but hoped that with time, he would. He was drunk on his best friend's pulse when he slurred, "I can't promise anything."

Obi-Wan also felt euphoric and buzzed off of their meditation, but as soon as he was given the seal of approval for a romantic relationship between them, he was as sober as could be. His hand burrowed deeper into honey hair, "I don't expect you to."

"There will be rotations you'll want out."

"Are you forgetting who you're talking to?"

Anakin's voice shriveled to a wounded whisper, "Don't walk out on me again."

"I swear by the Force I'll never do that again." Obi-Wan's lips turned against a bronze cheekbone, "Never, never, never."


	13. Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: Special thanks to all of those that have followed, favorited, or reviewed. That this story is being enjoyed, at all, in any capacity, is the shit.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts/references.

Postscript: I invite you to think of the war zone in Anakin's mind as a springboard.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Eleven: Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be

He couldn't precisely diagnose what about it gave him temporary angina. This wasn't the first time they'd done it and they weren't doing it in any exceptional manner. Could it be the ordinariness of the action? Obi-Wan's grip tightened against his bony flesh and his breath became even more laborious. Was it the lingering incredulity that he _and Obi-Wan_ were exploring a romantic relationship? Something as mundane as their hands clasped together while sauntering away from the landspeeder both electrified and terrified him. Perhaps it was fear that the changing definition of _them_ would ultimately _destroy_ _them._

Obi-Wan still held tight to his hand after the front door shut behind them. The Jedi suddenly turned to lay out a concern that had surely been irking him since their first visit to the salt flat after the Affinity Accord, "Are we going to tell Luke?"

It was something Anakin already punched in many hours thinking about, so he was ready with a reassuring nod, "I plan to. I just need a little time to mentally prepare myself for all the questions he'll have." He lightly cleared his throat, "Primarily the ones he'll have about his mother."

"Well, whenever you're ready to address it with him, I'll be right beside you."

He smiled. _We're still us. Changes between us won't change us._

:-:-:

 _Crystalline droplets streamed from his eyes as he leaned close, "Wake up. I-I-please. Please, Obi-Wan."_

:-:-:

Oceanic eyes cracked open to a room in tenebrosity. He hysterically tossed back the bantha wool throw, clumsily pushed off of the couch- barely registering a trip over the coffee table- and desperately rummaged through both bedrooms, the fresher, the cellar, and the never-used additional lodge and study rooms. When his search proved fruitless, he sprinted past the kitchen and sitting room to vault up the landing stairs. After his frenetic mind remembered how to open the front door, his eyes locked onto a faraway figure laggardly hanging laundry.

He painstakingly ignored the screaming protests in his nervous system when the burning sand set fire to the artificial thermoreceptors in his bare cybernetic feet. The greeting he received went unacknowledged as he flung wet clothes down the line, creating a direct route to the mark of his hunt. He yanked a wet tunic out of Obi-Wan's hands, haphazardly threw it to the barren earth, and drew the other Forceful into a sturdy embrace. Once their bodies meshed together, he buried his profile against the perspiring skin of the blonde's neck.

Obi-Wan momentarily stood in stiff confusion before he tentatively clutched the black vicra shirt over his friend's shoulder blades, "Can I help you?" Only provided with an incomprehensible noise in response, he regarded the brunette warily, "Anakin."

"I needed to touch you."

There was surely a rationalization behind this abrupt, aggressively affectionate behavior, but the given deflection was a telltale sign. Although they were trying to be more open with one another, Anakin still lived and emoted on his own time. Rather than trying to pull teeth, Obi-Wan held his housemate and let himself be held. The heat from the suns caused the points where their skin met to be thoroughly saturated with sweat by the time they separated. His fingertips gently touched under Anakin's chin to assure their eyes met head-on when he cut to the heart of any issue that was going on, "I love you."

"Thank you," was the mumbled reply before their lips pressed together in an innocent kiss. Anakin's flesh fingers combed across his partner's caramel beard before he took a couple steps back to twirl towards the house. Now mentally and emotionally at ease, he acutely felt the scolding temperature of the sand against his nerve endings and made it inside even quicker than he made out to the clothesline.

As soon as he dived through the front door he'd left open, he was drawn to the main bedroom to locate a squawking comlink. He sat down on the edge of the bed and activated the device, "Yeah, I read you."

"Obi-Wan? Man, living with Anakin has _really_ taken a toll on your accent."

"Ahsoka," he pinched the bridge of his nose and masked his laugh with a gnarled smile, "it's Anakin."

The Togrutan responded in muddle, "Hold the heliopause, did I freq you?"

"You really think it would take _eighteen_ _frinking years_ for me to begin to have an influence on his accent?"

"There's no need to get so defensive over a little _slip_ , Skyguy. Now, is your _boyfriend-with-the-perfect-delicious-Coruscanti-accent-and-how-dare-anyone-insinuate-otherwise-not-while-I'm-alive_ available to speak or not?"

" _Cosmic Force_ , do _not_ call him my _boyfriend_." He irritably pressed his index and middle fingertips into his eye, "He is outside. What do you _want_?"

She imitated Obi-Wan's accent as best she could, "I need to talk to Z'Master Jedi. Rush order."

Although he did not want to further the current conversation chock-full of his former padawan's persistent mockery and would have gladly given her overbold mouth over to Obi-Wan to deal with, he didn't want to interrupt laundry duties a second time, "Is it something I can help with?"

"No!" the Shilian's voice screeched through the crackling speaker of the long-range device. "I need to talk to _Obi-Wan_! That's why I comm-ed _him_ , not _you._ "

"Testy," he stood from the end of the bed, "hold on, Commander Rude-Ass, I have to walk out to him." He swiftly navigated through the house, slipped his boots on, and crossed the bluff to hold out the wrist comlink to Obi-Wan with a cocked hip, "Snips says she _urgently_ needs to gossip with you about your accent, or something. Beware, she's being vexatious."

One of the Stewjonian's eyebrows arched and he placed the garment in his hand back into the wicker laundry basket to take the device. He held it a few centimeters from his mouth and cautiously inquired, "Ahsoka?"

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"Is Anakin near you?"

"Yes."

"Tell him to shove off."

Baffled malachite eyes proximately found irritated cerulean ones. Obi-Wan translated the expletive-laden query that was surely about to be submitted into a politer form, "May I ask why?"

"Because I need to talk to you solo. I'm not saying any more than that." There was measurable grit in her words when she quickly tacked on, "Scram, Anakin!"

"You impudent _brat_! I teach you everything you _know_ and you-"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan stretched his arm behind him to hold the comlink as far away from the raving man as he could and pointed towards their abode with the other hand.

Anakin weighed the ramifications of refusing to leave but summarily determined Obi-Wan would probably tell him whatever was said later anyway. He elected to take the path of least resistance, though that wasn't to say it didn't piss him off to do so, "Whatever, fuck you, Ahsoka!"

Obi-Wan could feel a migraine chomping at the back of his eyeballs when he heard the distant sound of the front door closing and the insistent inquiry of _I_ _s he gone_. He drew the mic towards his mouth with an irritated sigh, "Was that really necessary? I'll _never_ hear the end of this."

"Anakin can't get involved."

Static stained the silence between her sentences.

When she finally spoke, it was abundantly clear why the conversation must remain exclusive, "The rebels are in an emitter matrix bind and you're the only one that can _un_ bind us."

::::

"I am on my _knees_."

"I _can't_. I _absolutely cannot._ Not after the month we've had."

"If you explain you're not _leaving him_ but-"

"You do not understand," Obi-Wan leaned his back against the clothesline post, consciously facing away from the house to hide his expressions and emotions from a meddlesome Tatooinian he instinctively knew was watching him like a Drayberian hawk from the picture window in the sitting room. He crossed his arms and let his eyes freely rove over the canyons, sand dunes, and mountains beyond the bluff. " _Do not_ let him know I told you this." His face turned somewhat towards the device sitting on the bend of his elbow, "He told me the dark side speaks to him."

The spacer's response was one of downright dismay and defeat, "Oh, _motherfuck_." There was a sizable pause sheathed in static before she deeply inhaled, "What's the damage?"

"I don't have all the details yet," the Jedi lamented. "All I know is it speaks to him as our consciences speaks to us. It is padding his mind with toxic thoughts and evidently has been doing so since he returned to himself at the end of the War."

"Oh, _motherfuck_ ," she groaned, "that narco-spice analogy was on the nose."

He pushed away from the clothesline post to aimlessly tread forward, "He needs me here."

"I wouldn't be asking this if it wasn't _fast-moving-black-hole critical_. Three or four rotations. No, two or three! Give me two or three rotations."

"I _can't_. I can't leave him while he's being bombarded by the dark side." He held up his index finger in emphasis although the motion couldn't be seen, " _One second_ is all it takes and he could be taken from me again. I'm sorry, Ahsoka, but I _refuse_ to increase the likelihood for that risk to become a reality, especially in the case I'd be unavailable to provide him with the Living Force he'd need to return to himself."

"Two or three rotations is all I'm asking, Master Obi-Wan. _Please_."

"No, and that's my final word on the matter," he sternly spoke.

"What will you say to Anakin when he finds out you turned down a chance to bat?"

He agitatedly repositioned the comlink directly in front of his mouth, "Just so you know, customarily I would _not_ entertain these mind games you're attempting to play with me." His stance and tone slackened with a sigh, "I know he would want me to take this assignment and I know he would tell me he'd be fine for a couple rotations, but I must protect him come hell or high water. Even if I have to enrage him to care for him, I will do so."

"It's only on Corellia. Five seconds in hyperspace can get you back to him if he bleeps you whacked out, burning nerves or the kind."

"I think it takes a _little more than five seconds._ Not to mention, he waits _five and ten years_ to tell me about life-altering deliberations, determinations, and theorizations. He will _not_ comm if he needs me to return."

She importunately tried to foil his concerns, "He has been on cloud nine since you two reconciled."

"That has no bearing on this. _The dark side is speaking to him_ ; it is _in his head_."

"Can you hear it?"

"What a preposterous question."

She made an _a-ha_ noise, "If you can't hear the voice in his head and he doesn't tell you his _deliberations, determinations, and theorizations_ for ten years, then _how much_ can you really do to help him?"

There were a few moments of sweeping silence before he answered, "We're working on our communication. Not that it's _any_ of your business."

"If you're improving your communication skillset then by all means, go ask him what he thinks the best action strategy is here."

It was a warning, "Ahsoka…"

The warning went unheeded, "My bet is he would tell you he was a general in a war, he was a Jedi, a Sith apprentice, a recluse. He would say he _knows_ how to survive and he _will_ survive if you leave for a couple rotations, _expressly_ since he knows you're winging out to _assist me_ and _the rebellion_. He would say he has been warring with this voice for more than five and a half years and it only tripped him up once, _when he thought he was going to lose you_. All you have to do is make it clear as crystalplex you're coming to _help me_."

He decided to demonstrate the myriad of issues that would arise were he to accept this assignment, "He'd want to come with me."

"Tell him I didn't invite him!"

An amused laugh burst from his lips and he tossed a transitory glance over his shoulder towards the picture window, "Yes, that will go over well, because he's _never_ been known to show up places he hasn't been invited to."

Her voice held the same level of amusement, "I guess he did crash Kav Bayons' birthday bash pretty spectacularly, didn't he?"

His hand clasped over his sweaty forehead in woe at the memory, "Cleared out the entire refectory. The people only had to hear his voice and they were gone."

"Well, that's what Kav gets for inviting basically everyone but him."

He exasperatedly explicated, "It's because he got into a brawl with Calitraz Sadizir at Bultar Swan's birthday bash two months earlier."

"He only did that because Sadizir was trying to _conquest_ you."

His hand clasped over the center of his chest in sheer scandal, "No, he most _certainly_ was not!"

"Obi-Wan. He practically followed you around with electrobinoculars and made sexual intimations about you to anyone that would listen. He wanted to…" Despite the feeble attempts to hide it, her snorts and snickers were audible, "… _get_ with you. Anakin saw and heard what everyone else saw and heard and decided to step in."

"He should have told _me_ and let _me_ address it instead of fighting like an ill-mannered youngling."

"To be fair, he verbally warned Sadizir to back off and _the_ next rotation Sadizir told a flock of other apprentices, _right outside the_ _Room of a Thousand Fountains of all places,_ that he was going to, _um_ , shall we say, make his adult-rated move during the Festival of Stars. Anakin and I were in the Sparring Arena when the skinny spread and he rocketed through the ionosphere. He was acting so psychotic I thought he was going to rip someone's arm off and eat it. He couldn't stand how Sadizir was disrespecting you and decided to put a _very_ violent end to it."

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan scoffed, "instead of simply _telling_ _me_ like a judicious individual, he earned reprimand from the Council over brutalizing other Jedi. _For the third time._ And if this alleged _stalker_ of mine hadn't been embarrassed and acted like the entire affair was a spar gone awry, Anakin would have been expelled from the Order."

Hearty laughter filled the desert air, "He wasn't embarrassed! Everyone with a lightsaber knew Anakin was as vicious as a sleeth in a fight and more than half of them had been defeated by him in spars. No, after he finished breaking teeth, he told Sadizir _If you so much as utter Obi-Wan's name again, I'll tear your bowels out through your mouth._ He was afraid of Anakin!"

Obi-Wan was clearly scandalized for a second time, "Anakin _did not_ say that. That's a tall tale he spun to impress you."

"I was standing _right there_. I heard him say it _and_ I heard him say _Even if they kick my ass out, I will find you and I will end you_."

" _Somehow_ this is _not_ persuading me to take on your assignment," he heatedly huffed.

She coughed and cleared her throat to expel all traces of mirth, "Alright, alright, think about it this way. If you leave for a couple rotations, it will give _him_ some alone time. Think about it. He was in total reclusion on Naboo then thrust into a situation where he is living with someone else full-time. When he wants to be alone, something he'd been for _five years_ , he has to go into his bedroom and _stay_ in that _one_ room until he feels for company again."

 _Why does this sound so specific?_ He crossed his arms and swallowed heavily, "Is that why you're trying to get me out of the house? He's talked to you about this? He's told you he needs space from me?"

"No, he has never said _anything_ like that. I am simply saying you could pitch this as, happy landings, Ahsoka greatly needs my help and it would give you time to yourself, then I'll axis back."

"That's _not_ the bone of contention. I don't think I would have _any_ trouble convincing him I should go. The point is _I cannot leave him_ after what he told me a couple weeks ago."

The pleading in her voice was inescapable, "The top brass of the Ammyex Bloc doesn't swear by anybody since the rise of the Empire. They don't buy I am who I say I am and they've marked Organa as corrupt because of the part he's having to play, but you have case history with them. Their Chieftain _knows you,_ your name and face."

There was a trickle of white noise before he eventually sighed, "Is their Chieftain still Lomriv?"

Made hopeful by the inquest, she hurriedly spoke, "Yes, you and Master Windu backed down the Black Sun scumbags that tried to railroad her and the Bloc into giving them armaments."

"Even if they know my face, who I am, how would they know I am still trustworthy?"

" _Everyone_ _from the Deep Core to Wild Space_ knows your rep for standing against Palpatine during the last days of the Republic. I _need_ you."

"Anakin needs me and he comes before anything else."

"What if I come to Tatooine and stay with him while you go to Corellia?"

"He would threaten me with death if I tried to contract a babysitter for him."

"I will talk to him!" she avidly offered. "I will tout how much I need you to roll out to the Corellian system and ask him if I can keep him company during your assignment. If I play it like a social visit-"

"He is not dense by the thinnest stretch of the imagination; you are exceedingly aware of this. He will know what you are doing."

She hummed in contemplation, "What if I get you access to an auxiliary bird to planetfall in? He can nest in my corvette and he'll be waiting there for you when you jump back."

"Where would you get the auxiliary ship?"

"I'd find someone that would blind lease, no questions asked. I wouldn't tell them about Anakin."

"I don't know about this, Ahsoka," he groaned with scenario after scenario of things that could go wrong wheeling through his head.

"He wanted to aid the rebellion. Think how much this will mean to him."

Obi-Wan lived with Anakin: he knew what emotional manipulation looked and sounded like. Nonetheless, it appeared that as long as Anakin's happiness was involved, he couldn't muster much of a defense against it. _After we've trained adequately, I want to join the rebellion. I can't stay here and pretend the galaxy's soul isn't in need of reclamation! There's still more to give._ To help relieve the tremendous guilt and burden his soulmate felt, he knew it was almost impossible to say no. Ahsoka took his silence as an encouraging sign and tried to tip his teetering verdict in her favor, "I'll take any precautions or measures you deem necessary for his safety."

His arms straightened at his sides to hold the communication device near his hip while he assessed the pros and cons. Provided they followed their hypothesized plan, he could keep Anakin with him and out of sight on the corvette. There would be a few hours they'd be apart while he dropped down to Corellia then he'd soar back and they would head straight home. It would seem the only way Anakin could be spotted was through pure chance and the probability was very remote. Existent but very remote. He raised the comlink to his mouth, "I'll do it."

" _Thank you_."

"You're not to speak a word of it to him. Let me tell him."

::::

"No."

"Anakin-"

" _No._ The Bloc has always been astutely aware of the galaxy's sociopolitical history. We both know they'd recognize me as Darth Vader instantaneously. If anybody, _anybody_ , catches my scent, it puts your life at risk. It puts Ahsoka's life at risk."

Obi-Wan sat on the couch next to the Tatooinian and leaned his elbows onto his knees, "Nobody would be able to-"

The brunette swiftly grabbed the blonde's hand and ducked his head down against the side on their interlocked digits, "If shit _can_ happen, it _will_ happen to us. I am _not_ going if there is even one-hundredth of a percentile that your or Ahsoka's life could be put in danger."

The solution seemed very simple, "I'll tell her to find someone else."

Anakin lowered their hands and turned until his mechanical knees pressed against the older man's thigh, "No, tell her you're on-board and tell her she doesn't need to do twice as much work locating an auxiliary ship, or anything else, for me."

The Jedi clutched his forearm, "I don't want to leave you here by yourself."

The pads of his mechno-fingers touched underneath Obi-Wan's jaw, "I want you to do this. I'll be okay for a couple rotations. I'll be in a good mood knowing one of us is contributing to the rebellion."

"Will you comm me if you need me to come home?"

"Yeah."

"For _any reason at all_?"

"Yes."

Obi-Wan didn't believe he was receiving a sincere answer, but he knew if he challenged the promise, he would be accused of labeling Anakin a liar. While he tried to give off the illusion of facetiousness, he honestly hoped his next suggestion would be considered, "Do you want Ahsoka to stay with you in my absence?"

The menacing tone and words belied the younger man's smile, "I don't know, do you want a grave made of sand?"

He couldn't resist laughing, considering he was threatened with what he prognosticated he would be threatened with. He used the holds on his partner's hand and forearm to tug their bodies closer and puzzle their lips together. As he relished in the heat of Anakin's lips and skin, he couldn't shake the terrible feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. _This is a tragic error._ He broke their lip lock when he realized there was no part of him that wasn't demanding he renege on the deal.

He loved Anakin. He trusted Anakin. He did not love or trust the dark side.

He clutched the top of the taller man's knee, "I can't. I'm not going."

Anakin turned to fully face the back of the couch and hook his mechno-hand over the Jedi's shoulder, "I want you to go." He presented a dazzling smile, "This is good."

"No," Obi-Wan's hand encircled his friend's cybernetic wrist. "No, it's not. It's not a good idea."

"How old am I?" The lack of response prompted Anakin to tilt his head to the side to better find emerald eyes, "How old am I, Obi-Wan?"

"Your age has nothing to do with this. I can't leave you while you're-"

"I've been fighting the dark side for a _long time_ , rotation after rotation, year after year, whether you were there or not. I know you think I'm weak, but-"

"I've _never_ thought you are weak," Obi-Wan fervently framed the disgraced Jedi's face with his hands. "You may have had _moments_ of weakness in your life, but so have I. There isn't anybody that hasn't. If there's anything certain in this universe, it's moments of weakness and the limitlessness of your strength. I don't doubt you can combat the dark side on your own, Anakin. I just don't _want_ you to. I am here to help drag your crosses and there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Anakin only stared at Obi-Wan- his eyes, his nose- while the words haloed around his head. _I am here to help drag your crosses and there's nowhere else I'd rather be._ At that moment, he could find no vindication as to why he compartmentalized this declaration as the most erotic thing he'd ever heard. His knees pressed into the back of the couch, lining their right thighs against one another, and his flesh hand settled on the older Force-sensitive's shoulder. His mechanical fingertips gently ghosted over Obi-Wan's brow, temple, cheek, then ear, "It's only a couple rotations." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to a pale cheekbone, "We can meditate before you go. By the time we'll get needy for each other's energy again, you'll be back home. Then we can wrap our arms around each other and I'll tell you how much I missed you, how desperately I need your energy."

He kissed the skin beneath his partner's ear before breathily speaking against it, "I'll open my Living Force to yours and you'll fill me so completely. I won't know anything but you. I never do when you're inside me."

Obi-Wan tried to hide the shiver that shook his body like a sonic amplifier. Any energy he would have afforded to a response was rerouted to try to extinguish the rising fire in his heart and groin.

Anakin turned the other man's face towards him, "I want you to go and help on both our behalves, okay?"

The blonde dumbly nodded. He still didn't trust himself to speak, not intelligibly.

::::

"Comm if you need me," Obi-Wan anxiously sat his worn ankarax leather suitcase on the landing.

"I will," Anakin assured with an endearing smile. "Be careful."

The smile was returned but quickly smothered by the younger Forceful's mouth. Their lips lovingly tussled before the Jedi Master admitted defeat and tilted his face away, "I love you."

"I love you, too. _Be careful_ , amanica."

Anakin smiled when lips melded with his yet again, even though the contact was short-lived, "I will be." Obi-Wan finally stepped back and picked up his suitcase. He circularly motioned with his hand to reference the house, "Don't break anything or do anything weird."

"I'm going to establish a clown hotel in the cellar and sacrifice Living Force to the Demon Savior Valkorion skyclad."

Obi-Wan only stared at the Tatooinian with a half-smile. After passing through the doorway, he turned back around, "Please don't get into any trouble while I'm gone."

Anakin's hands hitched to his hips, "What do you _really_ think I'm going to do? _Break the water pump_? Maybe be original and target the generator?"

"I never have any idea what you're going to do," Obi-Wan laughed. He was almost through the door again when Anakin fiercely yanked the collar of his shirt, bending him backwards and to the side for one last kiss before he left. He dropped his suitcase and tried to return the affection but found reciprocation difficult in his position. He stepped back and stood up straight, delightedly hugging the other man's thin waist. When the kiss ended, he held his precious faneta close, not wanting to let go.

To his dissatisfaction, Anakin grabbed his shoulders and began to slowly waltz them out the door, "You're going to keep Snips waiting."

He eventually relinquished his hold but still managed one last little peck, "I'll be home as soon as possible, love."

::::

Since he'd been staying on Tatooine, Obi-Wan insisted he could not wander off alone, not for a moment. Not to the Sea, not to purchase supplies for his prosthetics, not even to buy food. He made it very loudly known how much he did not agree with these restrictions, but his complaints never made a difference. If there wasn't a shadow of a doubt he would be promptly located were he to sneak off, he'd do it. When Obi-Wan ruefully told him Ahsoka was begging for bureaucratic help in convincing the rich, supply-wealthy Ammyex Bloc to arm rebel cells, his pledge of support was sincere. It so happened Obi-Wan would have to leave for a few rotations and he would have a chance to do everything he couldn't do with his lovable oppressor over his shoulder.

On the first rotation, he manically cleaned the house while blasting glimmik and rock music at deafening levels before lazily trudging around the Roiya Rift. When he returned home, he again cranked up the music player loud enough to rattle the glass in the freshly-cleaned windowpanes. After a few melodies ran their course, he decided to engorge himself on the red dwarf he knew was under a certain someone's bed. He felt relatively guilty as he drank the commandeered liquor while pacing around the sitting room. He knew he shouldn't be nicking Obi-Wan's things and he definitely shouldn't be consuming alcohol given his mental, emotional, and cosmic state. It went without saying his physical body wasn't in the best shape to receive much ethanol either. Although he'd gained a few pounds back, he remained underweight and there was hardly any food in his system at one time since he was still rebuilding his appetite. Despite these deterrents, he gradually consumed nearly half of the bottle of red dwarf from a glass whisky tumbler he found on a top shelf in one of the kitchen cabinets.

He eventually needed to use the fresher, which opened the opportunity for him to be taken hostage by his worst enemy. As his face stared back at him from the rustic mirror on the wall, he found he still hated his reflection. He hated his oddly-angled nose, his wide chin, the bags that were always under his eyes from not sleeping, the unremarkable shape of his lips. The fingers of his unfettered hand violently coiled around his toffee tresses with a fuming snarl, "I hate this fucking _hair_!"

He drunkenly slammed the whisky tumbler on the sink, causing the remaining liquid in it to slosh wildly, then pressed the bottom of his palm against the edge of the porcelain to bend over and yank drawer after drawer under the sink open until he found a nice, oxidized pair of scissors. There wasn't much about his appearance he could change, not without mutilation, but this was one thing in his control. He felt nothing but rage when he pinched a lock of his honey hair, raised the unlatched blades, and snipped it from his head. The curl fell to the beige flextile and the acrimony and adrenaline inside him magnified staggeringly. He straightened another curl and snipped, then another and another, repeating the actions with increasing vigor. His canines clenched as he watched strands float to the floor like archidia seeds in a breeze. The scissors opened and closed like the mouth of a starved maligator until he ran out of lengthy locks to lop off.

A few deep breaths passed in and out of his lips before he finally found the courage to look back up at the mirror. It wasn't as short as it was during his years as Obi-Wan's padawan. _Thank smegging shell stars, I hated it like that._ Locks of hair barely curved over the top of his ears and most of the mane that laid against his neck had been cut away. He combed his hair back and to the side, styling it as best he could before shaping up a few areas. He didn't like the new hairdo, but then, he didn't like his previous one either.

He settled the scissors on the sink and hoisted his tumbler to finish off its contents. He made his way to the kitchen to refill his glass and rifle through cabinets and drawers until he found one of his mini screwdrivers. With his new haircut, his red dwarf, and his screwdriver, he headed back to the sitting room and collapsed on the couch. He took large swigs of his liquor and twisted the screwdriver to tighten joints and parts of shielding that felt loose on his cybernetic arm. After a few minutes, the screwdriver slowed in its turn.

Fake arm. Fake legs. Repulsive face. Scars littering his flesh. Annoying, annoyed voice. Underweight. _Do you think Obi-Wan deserves this? A husk of a man that can barely face himself? Why does he want me?_ It seemed impossible for someone as stunning as Obi-Wan to want him.

There was no debate on Padmé's exquisiteness and he felt guilty for not extending her the same title, but he knew he'd be lying to himself if he said Obi-Wan wasn't the most ethereal, breathtaking creature he'd ever laid eyes on. He loved every inch of skin, every bone, every muscle, every hair fiber… That was undoubtedly _because Obi-Wan was Obi-Wan_. The Jedi could look completely different- missing an eye, bald, cybernetic attachments- it wouldn't matter. He knew as long as Obi-Wan had the same soul, energy, and mind, he would love every cell of that man's body.

The glass of red dwarf was empty. Anakin sat his tumbler down on the coffee table and reclined back on the couch to prop his feet up. Was it because of the voice constantly deriding him that he'd become so focused on outward appearance? He couldn't plainly determine the origins of this fixation, but a fixation it was nevertheless. All he knew was he wanted Obi-Wan to find him attractive, physically and sexually, and the hang-up was that uncomplicated. Distressing and uncomplicated.

On a theoretical, moral level, he only needed his partner to love him, but on a primal, superficial level, he needed his partner to desire him. It shouldn't matter Obi-Wan never complimented his appearance, but it did. It shouldn't matter Obi-Wan hadn't tried to have sex with him yet, but it did. They'd known each other for nearly two decades and often shared Living Forces; it wasn't like their relationship was a light affair. They deemed each other _soulmate_. If that was the case, why hadn't the Jedi tried to take him to bed or at the very least let onto some physical attraction?

He knew there was a magnetism to his mind in spite of how un-magnetic it was. The older Forceful knew every layer of his personality, every second of his past, all that afflicted him. So why did he keep mentally recycling this awful, hackneyed fantasy of Obi-Wan gushing over his beauty while fucking him against a wall? _Why am I wanting him to be magnetized to my body when he's already magnetized to my mind? Why am I wanting him to be shallow?_ Better yet, why was he so fixated on fornication? Worst of all, why was he not even taking into account what Obi-Wan thought and wanted? Despite occasional bouts of shyness, this was _still Obi-Wan,_ who was unapologetically assertive and highly persistent when he decided he wanted something. If he simply _didn't think Anakin was beautiful_ and _didn't want to have sex with Anakin_ …

 _He did act freaked out when I made that innuendo yesterday. He froze and spaced out like he'd rather be anywhere else._ Maybe their mental and spiritual connection was enough for Obi-Wan and a physical connection was immaterial. That would be a heartbreaking discovery, but Anakin would live with it in the end. His physicality was tolerable enough for kisses, hugs, and cuddles on the couch and if in the end that's all Obi-Wan wanted, he would _just deal_ with it. His upset amalgamated with the red dwarf only to produce a spinning ceiling and tumbling tears. _I don't want to just deal with that._

He moved the screwdriver to the proximal phalanx of his mechanical pinky to tighten another tiny titanium screw. After he was finished, he curled his fingers to test out the adjustments. He curled his fingers a second time. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth. He dropped the screwdriver to the floor and gripped his mechno-wrist. He curled his cybernetic fingers a seventh time, this time holding them in a tight fist. _This_ was the hand, _these_ were the fingers, that choked his wife. He still had _this hand_ and he was fretting like a pathetic teenager about whether or not Obi-Wan found him attractive. Why was he allowed to love somebody else and expect love or admiration, anything at all, from them after what this Force-forsaken hand had done?

 _Why didn't you care if Padmé thought you were physically appealing or not? Were she and her opinions, her love, less significant? Or were you never really invested in your relationship and marriage to her? Why didn't you care to give her the best parts of yourself like you so diligently try to do for Obi-Wan?_ _We know the truth, Anakin. He was what you lusted after all along. You never felt as good as when you enwrapped the Force around her throat. You knew it meant he would take her place._

No.

 _You knew it meant you would be able to spread your legs like a whore for your master and beg for his empty praises and insincere declarations of love. Oh, but that plan didn't pan out, did it, kitten? Your so-called soulmate finds you repugnant and keeps his hands to himself._

Obi-Wan loves me.

 _As long as he doesn't have to touch you. That's rather funny, isn't it? You killed your wife because you wanted the Jedi to bow to you, worship you, fuck you, but he couldn't be any less attracted to you._

Anakin reached over to the infrared operating device on the coffee table to turn up the sound pressure on the music player. It was loud enough to drown out the voice hissing in his ears, for a time.

That insidious voice unremittingly reminded him of the transgressions he committed unto his wife. He'd hurt her irreversibly and the most jolting aftershock of it was the endless suffering. For five solid years, he marinated in his disgrace, but that castigation was growing very tiresome. He loved Padmé, but he loved Obi-Wan too and was now at a point where he couldn't be apart from the man for even a rotation. The voice kept telling him his new relationship was dishonorable, tasteless, but it had been almost six years since his wife's death. Misery was a heavy cross to drag on your own. _I am here to help drag your crosses and there's nowhere else I'd rather be._ Maybe it _was_ dishonorable and tasteless, but he wanted and needed Obi-Wan too much to care anymore.

 _What if he doesn't want and need you?_

He scrubbed a hand over his face, "These thoughts are based on _nothing_!"

 _Why did he take the mission? Your padawan could have found anyone else in the galaxy that wasn't childminding you. He said it wasn't a good idea to leave, yet he left regardless. Perhaps he wanted to get far away from you. Perhaps now he is not directly in this disastrous situation, he has gained perspective and realized how much better life would be without an emotionally-crippled, impulsive, indecisive time bomb strapped to his chest._

"Even if he wanted a break from me, he will come back."

 _What makes you so certain? Maybe he realizes he does not wish to be a slave to emotion as you are._

"I am a slave to _no one and nothing_."

 _You are less than a slave. You are a stain. A defective, worthless stain. You are nothing more than his little sheep to watch over. He has to make sure you stay in line, make sure the dark side does not become your shepherd again._ _He'd kill you if he didn't still abide by the Jedi Code._

"Get out of my head," he grated through clenched teeth.

 _I will forevermore be inside you, my little stain. In spite of anything he's ever told you, all the meditation in the world will not banish me. The more you love and desire your sweet swain, the more you seek me._

"No, your temptation is already here and even if I walk away from him, I will take you with me. I am already exposed to you, both of us are. Stop trying to snake your way into my soul. I may be a stain, but I am not your slave or sheep. You cannot tempt me into the flames again. Not while I breathe."

 _Obi-Wan is a paragon of Jedi reason and morality. In time, be it yesterday or ten years from now, he will leave you._

Anakin did his best to focus on a number of other topics to stop the train of thought from gaining traction. He knew what the outcome looked like. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but throw himself onto the tracks. _I couldn't handle losing him._ Through his preteen years, it took great pains to build up a wall strong enough to withstand separation, rejection, and criticism from Obi-Wan. Throughout his teenage years and early adulthood, there were times when something Obi-Wan did or said would breach that wall and he was sure he showed it. Then, after the Clone Wars, there was nothing left of him and his reunion with his old master made it clear the wall he spent so many years building and bolstering had been demolished. He was stripped completely bare of any safeguards, allowing Obi-Wan closer- emotionally, psychologically, physically, spiritually- than ever before.

If he lost his soulmate after they'd harmonized themselves so intensely, he wasn't sure what he would do. Breath quivered past his trembling lips. _You know exactly what you'd do._ He took another deep, unsteady breath and tried to lead himself away from the morbid sequences in his head, "Think about happier things. Think about sand bunnies or the changing colors of a Ch'hala tree or holding hands with Obi-Wan or-"

 _How tight your sheets will be around your neck when the Jedi doesn't return._

He slammed his head back against the arm of the couch, "Stop."

Not even a full minute passed in the music-drenched darkness of the house before his mind wandered back to irrational, paranoid musings. _What if he breathes easier without me? What if he decides I'm too much baggage and he can do better than me? What if he wants to find someone more like Satine Kryze? More delicate, more prim and proper and agreeable than me? What if he wants someone whose eyes don't turn fripping red when they make out with him? What if he wants someone who doesn't radiate evil? What if he wants someone who hasn't kill their wife? Hasn't murdered children? What if-_

Anakin gasped frantically and gripped the couch cushions tightly as he sat upright. _If you ever have these thoughts again, remind yourself I have seen the_ _very worst_ _parts of you. I have seen them_ _many_ _times_ _for_ _many_ _years_ _at_ _very close proximity_ _and still I am here with you._ He couldn't blink back the tears in his eyes, "Obi-Wan knows you. He knows everything about you and he's known it for many years. There's no reason he would take off now. Calm down, Anakin."

 _He doesn't know your vile body._

He whimpered, "Go away."

 _He doesn't know the feel of your inhuman legs. He doesn't know the scars that ruin your flesh. He doesn't know the stab of your jagged hipbones. He doesn't know the gruesomeness of your severed thighs. He doesn't know the nastiness of your tainted backside. He doesn't know the decay of your rotten insides._

"Shut the fuck up!"

There was nothing except hatred for himself when teardrops fell onto the back of his flesh hand. He hated being victim to this abuse and degradation. He hated having his self-worth chipped away until he sat around deliberating whether or not his partner was physically and sexually attracted to him. He hated doubting Obi-Wan, by no fault of the Jedi's in the least. He hated having absolutely no way to stop this shit or run away from it or silence it. His initial instinct was always to buck up against anything that voice articulated, but sometimes it knew exactly what to say to bite a bloody mouthful right out of his heart.

Through his teenage years, he generated ceaseless fury for those that made passes at him. They didn't know him or care to know him; they only knew and cared what he looked like. It was the reason that by adulthood he knew the most central trait he'd need in a significant other was _deep-rooted_ _spiritual, emotional, personal love_. Not love based on looks but based on _who he was_ _, inside_. He had that. Obi-Wan loved _him_. Why was he acting like physical attraction had anywhere near the same level of importance as Obi-Wan loving _him_? How could he possibly entertain the thought of wanting to change Obi-Wan in this aspect? Why did this _matter_? Why did any of this baseless banthashit _matter_? _I'm_ _a shallow, disgusting pig._

"Shut up, Anakin," he pleaded with himself. "Obi-Wan could have absolutely anybody he wants, people who are much more appealing than you. He loves _you_ and that's all that matters. _Stop_."

 _I agree, pet, he definitely could do better than you. He could have someone infinitely purer than you, someone with clean hands and conscience that would be able to lure him into their bed with a simple wink or kiss. He is only accommodating your fictional romance to take control of your energy and will. Once he has tamed you into submission, he will leave you chained in a dark hole, like an exhausted owner neutering their uncontrollable mutt only to tie it to a tree on the side of the road before speeding away._

He shut his eyes against the tears steadily cascading down his cheeks, "Obi-Wan loves me."

 _Jedi complete their mission by any means necessary. You know this better than anyone._

He laid on his side and allowed the tears to freely pour over the bridge of his nose and across his temple. Maybe if he laid still enough, he would cease to exist. He forfeited his stomach to churning nausea and his brain to the pounding music still pumping from the player. After a little while, his bitterness and tears exhausted him into an emotionally-fatigued, dreamless sleep.

::::

On the second morning, he tried to purge the previous night from his mind with vomit. Unfortunately, the poisonous dialogue didn't vacate him even after his hangover symptoms passed. The next option was to find a formidable distraction and he decided there was no better way to spend his time than with his son. The Skywalkers easily slipped off the moisture farm without raising attention to their _supervisor's_ absence. Normally when they'd leave the farmland, Obi-Wan would make them take Luke back after two or three hours, but _Obi-Wan wasn't here_. He was going to keep his son out until nightfall and he didn't care if those dull-witted windbags got mad. They took the speeder back to the Jundland Wastes and spent the rotation making crafts.

First, he let Luke go to town cutting up a pair of his pants which they subsequently made leather crowns out of. Then they made a model house from liquid slickplast and toothpicks. Next, Luke professed he wanted to make a suncatcher, so Anakin popped off the metal lid of a jar of zog, heated up distilled vinegar, nahcolite, and bantha milk to make glue, emulsified some raw, some cooked foods with milk and Kodari rice flour for paint, and then gave him a toothpick to swirl the colors with. By the end of the rotation, they were pretending to be leather-crown-wearing warlocks as Luke stirred a brew of distilled vinegar, water, nahcolite, and homemade green paint with a stock pot spoon. Once they finally set out for the salt flat, Luke asked the question he expected to come much earlier in the rotation, "Where's Obi at?"

He used their connected hands to pull the boy to a stop by the speeder then kneeled down in the sand, "He went to help Ahsoka fight against the Empire."

Luke used his free hand to frantically grab his father's shoulder, " _Fight the Empire_? You mean the strangazoid lizard lady that dragged me on a chain and those egg heads that shot at me and Soki? What if he gets hurt? Why'd you let him go?"

"When did Ahsoka teach you the term _egg heads_?"

"He woulda listened to you! If you said, _no_ , Obi, you _can't_ go, he woulda listened to you!"

"Let me clarify," Anakin sat cross-legged on the ground, prepared to stay in that position and talk as long as necessary to calm and reassure his frantic child. "He is helping Ahsoka _talk_ to someone about getting some supplies so _she_ can help _other people_ fight the Empire. Obi-Wan isn't physically fighting anyone. He's only negotiating, or speaking, for Ahsoka, okay? He isn't fighting."

Luke's voice still tremored in terror, "He's coming back, isn't he?"

He put on a confident face for his teary-eyed offspring, "Of course he is."

The boy nervously fidgeted with his fingers, "He's not going to keep moving around like Soki does?"

Anakin closed his hand around Luke's, "He would never be able to stay away from you, cadet."

The father of two felt victorious when he received a little smile, "When's he coming back?"

"He should be back by tomorrow."

"Good," the almost-six-year-old exhaled in relief. "It's fun just you and me, but I love my guardian angel Obi and I'd miss him too much if it was only you and me forever."

Why did the syrupy assertion feel like plaque in his arteries? _He probably feels safer with Obi-Wan than he does with me. Obi-Wan has all his natural limbs. He's more grounded, more reasonable, more even-tempered. He doesn't have to use his little one as a last-line defense from self-hanging._ He plastered on a smile and tried not to reflect the pain of the plaque slowing the blood flow to his heart, "Me, too. He would have preferred to see you before he left, but the whole thing happened pretty fast."

"'s okay. He's coming home soon." Luke gave a smile, but it quickly faltered. He inched across the sand to touch his father's face, "Why are your eyes so red?"

 _Sith's blood. Do not plasting cry in front of him again._ He did not want to lie, but what was he supposed to say? _Your guardian angel doesn't want to fuck me, might only be in a relationship with me to control me, might have left for good, doesn't know I almost killed myself over him, deserves better than me._ Lying was the only road to take, "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Why not?"

"I was missing Obi-Wan."

Luke lunged forward to enfold his arms around the elder Skywalker's neck, "He misses you, too. I bet he didn't sleep good without you with him either."

He damned the tear that broke loose when he toothlessly assured, "I'm sure he misses both of us."

Luke laid his head on Anakin's shoulder, "Don't worry, Daddy, one more night and he'll be home."

The consoling embrace was returned, "You're totally right. Thank you for cheering me up, Luke."

::::

He decided he would go east to the market to buy some exotic cuisine he'd never tried (it was really to buy more alcohol). He dug through his storage closet until he found the old rags he'd arrived on Tatooine in, knowing they would allow him to blend in more easily.

Within the first five minutes of traversing the Market Place, he knew he'd made a misjudgment. The Market Place in Mos Eisley was the _worst_ place to be while missing his wayfaring partner so fiercely. He saw a cask of tea leaves for sale- he thought of Obi-Wan. He passed a man with sandy hair- he thought of Obi-Wan. He heard a mother scolding her child about wandering off- he thought of Obi-Wan. Everywhere he turned, another reminder waited. He left the Market without buying anything.

He didn't want to go home. The thought of getting food from the kitchen or sitting on the couch or taking a shower or even laying in his bed was sickening. Every single square millimeter of that house smelled like sapir, eukamint, and oranges. He ended up in the Western Dune Sea and it was no better than going home. It reminded him of the Sea Circumstance, doing nothing to drown out the doubts he was trying to pretend the voice hadn't entrenched in his head the night before. Why would Obi-Wan stay with him after occurrences like the one that took place in these dunes? Someone loving him so stalwartly seemed impossible. _Unless there's an ulterior motive. Unless he wasn't acting as Obi-Wan, the civilian but as Obi-Wan, the Jedi, determined to complete a mission by any means necessary._ _He gave over half his Living Force and almost died. All that for love_ or _to control me and steer me away from the darkness?_

Anakin growled, frustrated with himself for entertaining the demon's words, "He would never lie about loving me to control me, _never_. His heart and soul are _pure light_. He has only ever told _one_ lie to me and he only did it because he was scared." He closed his eyes and breathed in relief when he heard no counterargument. Upon opening his eyes, he realized the moons were on the rise. He managed to waste the whole rotation. _Go home, Anakin._

He sat down on the couch once he made it to the house. After a series of restless positions, trying to get comfortable, he gave up and hunted the throw from the storage closet in the hallway outside his bedroom. He exited back through the front door and shook the throw to unfold it and lay it out on the most even patch of sand he could find. He laid his back and head flat against the bantha-wool-covered ground with the heels of his boots digging into sand. His hands folded over his stomach and he stared up at the night sky.

Stars, satellites, and spaceships twinkled down on him like sein jewels. Somewhere in those extraterrestrial heavens was Stewjon, the planet that birthed his son's guardian angel. Maybe the real reason he'd never been there was because it didn't really exist. What kind of place or people could beget a man like his amanica? It seemed more likely that a god breathed life into a shining star and named it Obi-Wan Kenobi. _Why does such an immaculate light want a dark defect to stain him? Why does he want me? He obviously doesn't want me physically. I scream at him, create problems for him, accuse him, lie to him, insult him, take his energy... What's the real reason he wants me?_

 _He didn't want you until you were reunited. Isn't it conceivable this is all a part of a mission to keep you in line?_

" _S_ _hut up._ "

 _Since cutting your legs off didn't keep you in line, he was forced to find a new method. If he has you following him around like a bitch in heat, you certainly wouldn't bend over for the dark side again, would you?_

"I _hate_ you."

 _A Jedi will do what he must for the greater good, even pretend to have feelings for filth like you. Though I suppose fucking you isn't a step he's willing to take for the deception. Even for a seasoned warrior like Obi-Wan, that's asking a little too much of his bile ducts._

Anakin harshly pressed his palms against his eyes to try to reverse the flow of his tears. He rolled onto his side and bent his legs in towards his stomach. It was on Naboo; it was on Tatooine. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, he could never escape this. It was destroying his nerves, his thought processes, his Living Force. It was incessant. It was vulgar. It took no prisoners.

 _How can an angel love the shit of the Force? He lied to you about lack of attachment to control you. Why wouldn't he go to the other end of the spectrum and lie about loving you to control you? Lie about loving your children to control you?_ He slapped his temple with all the might of his mechno-hand, but it made no difference. _And if he ever overcomes his bile ducts to fuck you, you'll know it's because you are so out of control he has to rein you in by the most extreme measures._

" _No, s_ _top_ trying to contort his love for me into something foul and cruel! I know what you want! You want me to turn to darkness and I will _never_ seek refuge in your vacuum again. _Leave me alone._ "

 _His love was conceived in contortion._

He rolled on his back with a roar of frustration. Through his tears he saw all the celestial lights exploding from the dark sky. Obi-Wan was out there and no matter how far he went or what he did, Anakin would love him. The brunette shivered at the tears that rolled over his temples, "You can't understand love. You have no clue what love feels like. You can never _conceive_ what we feel for each other because you're a bodiless, phantasmal loudhailer for the dark side embedded in my Force-fucking brain. You are emotionless, coldblooded, _fabricated_! You don't even _exist_! You _don't exist_!"

 _He will never love you. You are a repulsive, scarred, dishonorable child killer with a terrible temper and a slimy soul. He could never love you. He could_ never _love you._

" _Get out of my head! Get out! Get out! Get out_!" he howled, again turning onto his side and folding into a fetal position. His fingers burrowed against his scalp and his nose and eyes were running like rain, "Please come home. _Please_ , I just n-need to hear you say you love me and I need you to sound like you franging mean it. I waited my whole life to hear you tell me you love me and now that you finally have…" A sob shook his frame and vocal chords, " _I don't fucking believe you._ "

 _Oh, Anakin, if only you were convinced of my existence you could see my smiling face._

::::

It was very early on the third morning when Obi-Wan returned. He stepped into the barely lit house and peered around the wall of the landing, immediately trying to locate Anakin. He was admittedly in panic mode. After every single one of his comm-calls were missed, he was desperate to confirm the Tatooinian's safety and wellbeing.

He shot straight for the extra bedroom, but the space was empty. The dread weighing on his chest got heavier and he frenziedly decided to set his suitcase down in his room then resume his search. He was surprised and relieved to find Anakin asleep in his bed. The sheets were tangled around the younger man's legs and the sun-blushed skin of his shirtless torso shined under the moonlight peaking in through the curtained windows. His flesh hand lay unmoving over his stomach and his ungloved mechno-hand lay palm-up on the bed beside him. His head was tilted to the right, sunken into the pillow, and his mouth was slightly agape as he inhaled deeply. Obi-Wan was sure he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

He was so relieved to find Anakin at ease in his bed, the only thing he wanted to do was touch his partner's flesh to make sure _absolutely nothing_ was amiss. He moved almost soundlessly when he sat his suitcase down, unbuckled his belt, placing it on the desk, and removed his tabard. He toed off his boots and crawled onto the bed to sit beside his bed-poacher. _You u_ _sually would have woken up the second I walked through the front door. You must be very tired._ He memorized every detail of the blessed peace etched on Anakin's face and lovingly touched his fingertips to the slumbering Forceful's brow, caressing the scar there. Drowsy sapphire eyes peaked open and a tired smile graced his lips, "I hope you realize this is my bed."

He received a hazy murmur, "Didn't know you'd be back tonight. I would have waited up for you."

"No, I shouldn't have awoken you. You never get any rest," he traced his fingertips over a bronze jaw then withdrew his touch. "Go back to sleep. I only wanted to let you know I was back, safe and sound."

As he turned to scoot off the bed, the mattress shook and mismatched hands twisted into the fabric over his biceps. Heated breath slid over his ear, "Get in the bed, Kenobi."

Anakin intently used all his weight to tumble them backwards. Obi-Wan made no protests as he wiggled into the warm bed with the man he loved. His partner curled up against his side and slid a hand under his tunic to lay against his naked collarbone. He made no mention of the prods he felt to his energy or of the ear that settled in the dead center of his chest. He was so focused on Anakin's face before they laid down, he'd failed to recognize a significant transformation. As soon as his fingers streamed through the shorter, thinned out curls on the younger Forceful's head, he observed, "You cut your hair."

"Yeah."

He pressed his head back further into the pillow and used both hands to lift his housemate's head to get a better look. One of his hands brushed over wisps of butterscotch brown hair as he stared on in silence. Only when he saw characteristic anxious blinking did he finally declare, "I like it. It looks good."

The mentally-battered brunette knew he was much more disappointed than he should be. He wanted Obi-Wan's endorsement to be more resolute. He wanted Obi-Wan to say it looked better than his old haircut. He wanted Obi-Wan to tell him he looked attractive, appealing, gorgeous. He of course only laid his head back down against the older man's chest. There was too much pride and shame streaming through his veins to beg for compliments and as he continually established to himself over the past two rotations, it was childish and superficial to want the compliments to begin with.

"Thanks."

The blonde shifted until he could wrap his arms around the body beside his, "I was worried about you. I tried to comm you morning and night, but you didn't answer. I was afraid something happened."

"I…I'm sorry," Anakain fought for words, truly caught off-guard. He never even considered that Obi-Wan might have been trying to contact him. "I think my comm has been in my room this whole time. I tried to keep myself busy."

He was convinced he imagined an accusatory undercurrent in Obi-Wan's words, "You didn't contact me."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"You wouldn't have bothered me. I missed hearing your voice."

Anakin felt his teeth chatter. _He missed hearing me, talking to me. He missed me._

The Jedi fished around for the coverlet to pull over them, "How is Luke? I would assume you went to visit him, _alone,_ _against my wishes_."

"You would assume correctly. He's fine." His hand slid across the Stewjonian's flesh, hooking over the outmost curve of the man's shoulder, "He called you his guardian angel."

"Did he?"

He was enraptured by the rhythmic heartbeats thumping against his ear when he admitted, "It must be a Skywalker thing. Only two rotations without you and I almost lost it."

" _Anakin_ ," Obi-Wan fortified his embrace, causing the upset Forceful's face to press against his clavicle. "I told you to comm me if you needed me."

The rejoinder came out muffled, "I figured you wanted a break from me."

He clutched the wrist on his chest as he used the arrest around Anakin's waist to gently flip them over. He elevated above his partner and their eyes linked, "I didn't leave to get away from you or take a break from you or _anything_ like that. The only reason I went is because _you_ wanted me to. I would have never gone for any other reason." He interweaved their fingers together, "It was hard to breathe without you." He pressed in for a short-lived kiss, "It was so very hard to breathe. I'm glad to be home."

Anakin didn't want to be the first to say it, but the longer emerald jewels shined down on him, the more fortitude he lost. He guided Obi-Wan's face against his neck, "I love you."

Obi-Wan inhaled the smell of salt and oil, "Not as much as I love you, my dear."

As he drifted in and out of sleep, the Jedi Master laid wide awake. _How could I let such an avoidable, predictable mistake like this happen?_ Obi-Wan hadn't made mention of how jarring their conversation was. Anakin was clearly upset, but he hadn't wanted to exacerbate the situation, especially when he didn't even know what the situation was. If Anakin was distracting himself so effectively in the last two rotations that he didn't have time to make calls or hear the infamously obnoxious siren of a comlink, when did he find the time to almost lose it? Why did he think Obi-Wan wanted a break from him when _he_ was the one that pushed for the assignment to be taken? Why did he look like he was about to cry after being told his hair looked good? In fact, why did he cut his hair to begin with? Why did his energy feel like it had been sharpened on silicon carbide, trying to painfully stab into Obi-Wan's?

The sorrowful inquirer knew the answer to all these harrowing inquiries.

 _We've lost all the progress we've made to the dark side. I failed you_ _._

He would never take on another assignment, no matter how much he was begged or urged to.

His absence observably fed the darkness- _and its jaws were open wide._


	14. Still Want More

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: In the previous chapter, I tried to depict how neurotic/illogical/conflicting Anakin's thoughts and reasoning are and upon re-reading, I see how tedious and discursive it became. I hope I didn't lose anybody! (And if you note any changes to the previous chapter- it had to be done.)

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Twelve: Still Want More

Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood. Spray the rag, scrub the oka-wood.

 _I can't take this another crinking second!_ He crossed the sitting room in six long strides and arrested his partner's limb with both hands, "You've been at this for fourteen hours."

The wild-eyed Force-sensitive fixedly stared at the vinegar-water cleaner seeping from the ochre synthcloth rag under his hand, "The house is dirty."

"You've cleaned this table nine times in under a minute," the Jedi softly reasoned. He lifted the slender wrist in his grip then gently wrestled the discolored rag from his housemate's tightly-coiled fingers, "It's not dirty anymore."

Anakin surveyed the bleeding droplets of cleaner sprinkled across the tabletop as he blankly mumbled, "The house is dirty."

Obi-Wan worriedly clasped his shoulders and tried to establish eye contact, "It is not dirty. You have cleaned it from top to bottom multiple times. Why do you think it still needs to be cleaned?"

Heat scorched his cheeks and condensation collected in his eyes. He hastily screwed his eyelids shut to hide his emotion from his one-man audience, but this did very little to divert the spectator.

Obi-Wan's hands snaked under thin arms to cradle protruding shoulder blades and pull their bodies closer, though he maintained enough distance to keep his friend's expression under observation. Anakin's mood uniformly exacerbated following the Corellia Commission and he still couldn't decrypt what transpired during their separation. All he knew was whatever took place, it managed to catapult the Tatooinian into an increasingly insecure, skittish, cheerless, and manic frame of mind.

If there was any lesson learned in their long history, it was depression stirred with mania always yielded destruction, of the self and otherwise. The delicate situation called for a subdued response, which was why he pled with a voice more saccharine than forest-honey, "Talk to me."

Anakin's flesh hand half-heartedly pushed against the center of his chest, "I don't want to talk."

He rapidly tightened his embrace to disallow a physical retreat, "Talk to me, jaguarete. Please talk to me."

A shuddering shockwave bolted up the right side of the brunette's torso, flaring into his shoulder and neck, when the Jedi's tender fingers caressed his scalp. He finally opened his eyes after blindly nestling his nose against the side of Obi-Wan's head. _Could he talk to me and touch me like this if he didn't want me? If he didn't love me?_

There were confessedly times when he thought about encroaching on Obi-Wan's feelings. It would be _so_ very easy. He could do it and Obi-Wan wouldn't be any the wiser. On a number of occasions throughout his life, he talked himself up for it, but he never could follow through in the end. Although the skill was a common Jedi practice, it was only something he was able to do with people he didn't have much regard for. He would readily use the Force to surveil the feelings and emotions of residents of the Temple or enemies in war, but Obi-Wan? It felt like a defilement of his best friend's trust. He'd never been able to invade Padmé or Ahsoka's emotions and feelings either.

"I'm right here, Anakin. You know you can confide in me."

He couldn't reveal all the paranoid illogicalities that ran amuck the past five rotations. It ranged from the pornographic to the psychotic and he still couldn't suss out what thoughts were his and what thoughts had been transposed into his head by the dark side. Frankly, at times he felt like he'd _become_ the dark side or that it lived inside of him. In the case he and the dark side were one, and the hurricane of horror in his head was not necessarily his own, he decided it best to give Obi-Wan _something_ , "I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin."

"Do you mean you feel anxious?"

Anakin's hands waved emphatically around the other man's head and shoulders, "I feel like I want to run and _run_ and swim in a river and climb on a mountain and scream until I lose my voice. I feel like my brain is trying to break out of my head."

"Do you know why you feel like this?"

"I didn't get any sleep last night and I've been pacing and thinking and I can't sit down. _I want to run away_."

This specific statement flipped Obi-Wan's stomach. He frantically seized flouncing hands and tightly laced their fingers, "What have you been thinking about?"

 _That I need to keep the house as clean as I can so you don't realize what a filthy pig dwells in your dwelling._ Sapphire eyes clenched closed as they did before, "Everything, _everything_. I've been thinking about frozen tundra and astrobiology and Luke and Leia, about nucleotide sequences and doped strontium aluminate, about our relationship, about running, running, _running_ , about Shining Man's vitalicron and-"

"Anakin, focus on me," he began taking deep, audible breaths and used their interlocked fingers to lower their hands to their sides. After a moment, the breathing exercise was copied and cautious cerulean eyes opened. He could see upset and overtiredness growing worse and knew it was ideal to treat the exhaustion first. Anakin had been an insomniac for as long as they'd known each other and experience proved that when he was deprived of sleep, he was more inclined to emotional turbulence. Obi-Wan used their knotted hands to lead them through the house. He experienced no problem navigating the immaculately cleaned rooms even though he was not watching where he was going, being completely focused on Anakin, and they quickly arrived at their bed. He released his partner's mechno-hand but still held firm to flesh fingers, "Lay down."

"I'm not tired," the fatigued Forceful irritably tried to yank his hand free.

Obi-Wan held fast, however, and sat on the side of the bed, " _I_ 'm tired and I want you to lay with me."

The irregularities in Anakin's breathing were highly noticeable, "You actually _want_ to lay with me?"

 _Galactic halo, i_ _t's even worse than I realized._ His eyebrows deeply creased as he stared up in worry and distress, "We sleep in the same bed every night. I would think it'd be obvious I want to lay with you often."Anakin hesitantly sat down beside him and he pressed their shoulders together, "What's making you want to run?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

His assertion was only met with a bellicose huff, "Yeah, you know my head better than I do. Or maybe I'm a liar."

The defense mechanism was identified the second it was deployed. He twisted his body, lifting a knee onto the bed, and forcibly rotated Anakin's head towards him, "Why wouldn't I want to lay with you?" He wasn't expecting the tide upon tide of tears that spontaneously began cataracting over pinkened cheeks. Unsurprisingly, his instincts kicked in and he did whatever was necessary to put an end to the weeping. He immediately backed off his interrogation and fiercely wiped at the torrential tears, "Don't cry." When the translucent droplets only seemed to multiply, he rained kisses over a moist cheek and down his darling's slender neck, "Don't cry." His lips retraced the trail it traveled against heated skin a second time, "Let's lay down."

Anakin merely nodded and climbed into the bed. Obi-Wan laid parallel to his bedmate but left about half of an arm's length between their bodies, fearful he would get distracted by things he shouldn't if he got too close. He leaned their foreheads together and laid his hand over the point where the brunette's skull and neck met, "I love you and I hope you know I'd do anything for you. All you have to do is ask."

More anguish tumbled over wringing-wet lashes. _If you love me, why are you laying so far away from me?_

Anakin's nimbly fluttering eyes made it blatant this sentimental sentiment only caused internal turmoil. Had that not been enough to cleave Obi-Wan's heart into quarters, he felt his soulmate's Living Force viciously spearing into his, just as it did the night he returned from Ahsoka's assignment. He recognized the pain, fury, and detestation in both instances and knew he couldn't let it go unaddressed a second time. He closed his eyes and apprehensively sought a meditative state. Within seconds he found sprigs of fitful energy and latched onto them. He heard a contented moan and the next thing he knew, bough after bough of violent energy impaled, scraped, wrenched on, thrashed, lashed, and strangled his. It was one of the most painful things he'd ever felt. He kept losing his breath as his partner's ferocious Living Force pulverized his in a desperate, furious attempt to bond.

His teeth gnashed into his lip hard enough to bring blood, but he didn't raise an objection. He knew before they started it was going to be punishing, but Anakin needed this. Every time he asked to bond since his return, Anakin had refused. He now saw he should have been more adamant; he should have exaggerated how badly he needed a joint meditation. It's not like he would have been lying if he said he craved their bond. He could have played the role of the one in need. It didn't matter to him as long as his other half didn't go without. Anakin could have needed him to bleed himself dry and he would have given the younger Forceful the choice of weapon. He considered the brutalization of his Living Force a small price to pay to console his overwrought soulmate.

His maxillary teeth pulled his bottom lip over his mandibular teeth after a penetrative shoot of energy stuck into his and dug like a needle in a vein. When he thought the worst was over, ten more sticks sunk in. There was no doubt Anakin was embattled, filled with abhorrence and agony. What did that Force-damn voice say to him in those two rotations to cause this? Obi-Wan felt like they were in a time warp, taken back to when Anakin first arrived and refused to speak to any afflictions. What could he do to reverse whatever malevolence the dark side had bred?

Anakin's energy gradually relaxed the longer they were bonded. There were still prods and pressure, but it became much more tolerable as the minutes ticked by. Only when his Living Force wore itself down and fell docile did Obi-Wan decide to exit their accord. That was no easy task given how entangled their energies were. The Jedi was essentially left to yank and claw his way to liberation. As he awoke from his meditative state, he was unsurprised to find Anakin near unconsciousness. The younger man's eyelids prominently drooped and twitched while the other muscles in his face were slack. Obi-Wan combed his fingers over his incapacitated friend's neck and hair until azure eyes fully closed and deep exhales of sleep circulated the room.

He transiently smiled then rolled onto his back with an aggrieved groan. Sleep would be impossible with the concerns plaguing his mind and the ache throbbing in his Living Force. It didn't help that it was still an hour before dusk. He rolled to his left and gave Anakin a gentle kiss on the cheek then rolled to his right to get out of the bed.

::::

He felt cold. He reached behind him in a sightless search. His eyes slowly pried open and he rolled over. The other side of the bed was empty. Cold and empty. His chest felt hollow. Why did his attempts at improvement always make him more unwanted? Had he been left alone in bed for the same reason Obi-Wan wouldn't move close while they meditated? Had it been getting harder and harder to pretend being close to him was bearable? Somehow, he thought it was worse than that.

He saw the pity when he asked if Obi-Wan actually wanted to lay with him. The answer had been too insistent and pleonastic. A fear that dwarfed _anything_ planted by the voice bloomed at that moment. What if this relationship wasn't to gain control but to give charity? What if Obi-Wan saw a broken spirit and body on Naboo and felt awe-inspiring sympathy? Then as time progressed and he saw how worse for wear his former padawan was, he decided to bestow an ultimate act of philanthropy? It would explain why he let all the erratic emotions and behavior fall by the wayside. It would explain why there was seemingly attachment but no attraction.

Anakin rubbed the back of his wrist against his eye as he sat up. He twisted around to scoot to the side of the bed when he noticed an out-of-place datapad on the bedside table. He leaned forward to pick it up and pressed the large, circular power button to bring it out of sleep mode. As soon as the touch-sensitive screen flickered on, typed, black text glared up at him.

:-:

 _Anakin,_

 _I'm not very tired and I didn't want to chance disturbing you. I theorize you won't wake up until tomorrow morning, but in the extremely unlikely case you wake up in the next hour, I wanted to let you know I went to visit Luke since I haven't seen him in five rotations. I will be back before Tatoo I clears the horizon._

 _Love,_

 _Obi-Wan_

:-:

Even though there was a sign off, indicating the end of the note, he could see more text at the bottom of the screen. He used his finger to scroll down and read what appeared to be an outpouring of thought.

:-:

 _You're my best friend. You know that, don't you? You can talk to me about anything. It doesn't matter how mad or disturbing it is. You can say anything you need to to me. I hate to see you hoarding so much pain that you can't even speak. Give me your pain. If you need to yell at me, that's fine. If you need to break a holotrace device, that's fine. Whatever it said to you, don't let it fester like an infected wound on your mind, energy, and soul. Banish it. I know you have the strength to tell it to get behind you. My faith in you will never be lost, so don't lose faith in yourself._

 _Don't lose faith in me either. I love you._

:-:

He laid the datapad down on the bed with his eyes fixed on the words trying to stitch their way onto his heart. He took a deep breath when he fathomed, "By the Original Light, does this count as a cutesy note?"

It probably didn't, but he was going to pretend it did.

"Fuck it all."

::::

He was only trying to do something _nice_ after what a massive pill he'd been lately. He still wasn't sure what motivated Obi-Wan's behavior in regards to him and their relationship, but he decided he needed to try not to focus on it so much. After reading the Cutesy Card, he realized how disjointed he'd become from the cold hard facts. He loved Obi-Wan _regardless of any and everything_ and he needed their relationship more than food. He didn't want to keep creating distance and obstacles between them because if he kept pushing until he lost Obi-Wan, it would kill his spirit. He wasn't ready to pour his heart out yet, but he was certainly ready to show his love had not altered. He determined the best way to start was to do something _nice_.

Obi-Wan did their laundry every three rotations, never a word, never a complaint. He decided he would offer to start hanging the clothes out to dry, that way they were equally splitting up the work of laundry duty. The older Forceful accepted without a fuss and on his first day, _his first day,_ with his new task, he got distracted hanging the clothes on the line and _tripped_ over the laundry basket! That in itself wasn't the issue. The issue was the clothesline was _outside_. Which meant the laundry basket was _outside_ , _on the ground_ , _in the sand_. And now sand was stuck _all over_ the wet clothes. He was sure he was suffering a subdural hematoma before he finally calmed down enough to put the clothes back into the laundry basket and stomp to the back of the house.

With clenched teeth, he dragged the beryllius basin from beside the water pump to the spigot mounted against the back of the house and filled it with water. Then he furiously threw clothing piece by piece onto the ground and used the spigot to clean out the sand-speckled basket. He crouched down to grab a sand-encrusted tabard and dunk it into the basin, avidly scrubbing the light fabric against itself, " _You're_ the fucking reason this planet is so rotten. If _you_ didn't exist, I could be a _happy man_. I could live my life in _peace._ I could have had a _happy_ childhood. I would have never known the _grating grit taste of silica._ I could have _clean fucking_ _laundry_. I could _live_ near a body of hydrogen oxide. I could _sleep_ at night and _love_ the outdoors and _sit_ on the ground and be a _better_ _father_ and _walk_ like a _normal fucking human being_."

A slurping sound brought his attention over his left shoulder and he found his housemate lowering a cup of what was presumably tea from amusedly smiling lips.

"I was-"

"I know."

"I _hate_ -"

" _I know_."

"How-"

"The whole time."

"How-"

"All of it."

"Whatever!" He dismissively waved his hand behind his back, "This is _not_ the weirdest thing you've ever seen or heard me do. Go about your business."

There was a slight pause before the laughter-laced comment, "Don't worry, Anakin, I still love you even though an inanimate chemical compound drives you to brief psychotic episodes."

Obi-Wan then turned and strolled back around the corner of the house. However, his cavalier derision hit a nerve and prompted his old padawan to chase after him, "This, coming from a man who _loses his suffering Sith shit_ when someone gets petroleum oil near him!"

He turned with a hand on his hip and his cup held chin-high, "You didn't _get it near me_. You _threw it on me_."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

" _No._ "

His eyebrows rose with his patronizing laughter, "Yes, you did."

Anakin simulated the laugh directed at him, "Fuck off, I did not."

The blonde leaned forward defiantly, " _Yes,_ you did."

The brunette mirrored the action, "I did _not_."

The older Force-sensitive scoffed, " _Yes, you did._ And we were in front of all those clones in the hangar, so I had a right to- _where are you going_?"

Anakin turned on his heel to march to the back of the house. He picked up a sealed canister of petroleum oil from the steel muscle rack next to the generator and his mechno-fingers clamped through the plastene lid. As he turned back towards the side of the house, he ripped the lid completely off and carelessly tossed it to the ground. Before he turned the corner, he hid the canister behind his back and folded his unhampered hand behind his back as well so he wouldn't raise alarm as he made his way along the wall.

Obi-Wan only realized the sticky situation when Anakin came abnormally close and speedily whipped his arm from behind his back. The Jedi barely got the chance to halfway lift his hands and screech _Anakin Skyw-_ before oil was tossed right at his face. The slippery black substance coated his hair, face, and clothing instantly. He couldn't see past the viscous liquid but could hear his imp of a partner's uncontrollable laughter. After the shock wore off, he wiped his hands over his face to remove the excess oil, " _You_ … _tun'tiv_!" He wiped his face a second time only to uncover a clear view of one Tatooinian's self-satisfied smirk. He made a noise of disgust and irritation, "What was the _purpose_ of that? I'll _never_ get these stains out!"

"Oh, _Obi-Wan_ , are you having a _brief psychotic episode_ over silly little _inanimate chemical compounds_?"

The clearly amused mischief-maker didn't try to run when he closed the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around Anakin's waist as his oil-doused hand gripped the taller man's neck. He rubbed his begrimed hair and face all over his friend's face, who only laughed at the blithe revenge. Once Obi-Wan was finished with his oil painting, he looked right into cobalt eyes and dotingly declared, "You're insufferable."

Anakin smiled with his teeth, "I'm insufferable."

Obi-Wan shook his head in aggravation. That smile got him. To see such a joyful expression after the last week, he knew he couldn't be irate. Anakin could do anything under the suns and get away with it as long as he had that heart-melting smile. His nose bumped against the brunette's, "Intolerable."

"Intolerable," Anakin agreed, his smile remaining though growing less toothy. His arm slithered over Obi-Wan's shoulder as he felt the fever in their energies, in their gaze, in their closeness rising. _Am I imagining this?_

"Impossible," the blonde mindlessly focused more on the warmth of the skin against his than what he was saying.

He was enthralled by the low snicker that danced in his ears, "You're just repeating yourself."

They were having a relatively normal conversation when he'd become captivated by Anakin's glowing beauty and how much he wanted to worship that beauty. As he stared at the man's smiling, succulent mouth, only one thing spiraled around his brain: _How many years have you fantasized about pinning me down, Obi-Wan?_ He suddenly didn't feel like being so close and took a step back to put some distance between them. He couldn't deny there were times like now when he recalled the night in the Sea and replayed what the voice said to him through Anakin, but it was only a trigger. It wasn't the legitimate reason he refrained from a sexual relationship with his soulmate. There were two _well-thought-out_ reasons for this refrain.

The first reason was the semi-perpetual condition of tumult. Anakin often got caught up in paranoia and misinterpreted his actions or words. There must be _conclusive_ balance and preparedness between them before they could initiate any physical connection. If any distrust or indictment surrounded their lovemaking, he wouldn't be able to handle it. The second reason was the refusal to give the impression he was only in this for sex. They hadn't even been together for a month yet. He didn't want Anakin to think he fought so valiantly for a relationship between them just so he could get off.

His voice was cool and measured, careful not to indicate his unease, when he teased, "Why do you always have to give me such a hard time, huh?"

Anakin stepped forward to close the distance between them again, not wanting to lose whatever was building between them. His heart was on fire with hope and anticipation when he teased back, "I have to get my kicks somewhere."

Obi-Wan took another step back with a raised brow, "Well, I hope your kick was worth it because _you're_ cleaning these clothes."

"Hm, I don't think so. I can burn them for you though," he stepped forward a second time.

Cue the third step back, "Think again."

"It's no problem," he reached the forefinger of his flesh hand out and hooked it in the top of a tan tunic, mildly tugging at it, "Undress. I will take them out over the bluff now and start a bonfire."

Obi-Wan clutched the playful finger and pushed it towards its owner, "You really are the most _insufferable, intolerable, impossible-"_

His forsaken hand reached out and grasped the back of Obi-Wan's neck to tug the greasy Jedi into a feral kiss. The oil caused the contact to be somewhat awkward, between the slipperiness and the taste, but the true discomfort came when a mechanical hand began to slide under beige and tan tunics. Obi-Wan pulled away entirely and paced backwards, though he tried to make everything seem normal when he professed, "I need to soak these clothes, you hellcat."

Anakin's heart burned to cinders as he watched the object of his affections round the corner of the house. What happened? He knew their fight wasn't _real_. If that was the case, the jokes and close proximity wouldn't have occurred. Their energies were reaching out for each other's instinctively; they wanted each other. Didn't they? Obi-Wan appeared to have gotten so lost in the feeling he basically kept repeating himself. What happened? Was it a joke? Did his partner not care how much pain this caused him? Or was that _why_ this little exchange happened?

 _He probably realized fucking you meant he'd have to actually touch you._

Shut up.

 _He would have to touch those cold, metal attachments. He leapt out of his skin when your cybernetic hand crept near him._

Shut up.

 _Do you think he wants to touch them? For them to touch him? I wonder if he would enjoy metal wrapped around his waist or having his dick ripped off by your quote, unquote right hand._

 _Shut up_!

 _Do you think your prosthetics arouse him or do you suppose he can only focus on how disproportionate and freakish you look?_

Leave me alone.

 _You're coated in scars, you're a sickening skeleton, your eyes are soulless voids. You only have one natural limb. No man wants that, lamb, no man. Do not fret though. None of that matters in the abyss. So, come. Seek solace in the yawning blackness._

 _I don't need_ solace from you _. I hate you!_ Leave me alone!

He sat down on the ground with his back against the concrete wall of the house.

The voice didn't leave him alone.

::::

By the time he noticed Anakin wasn't inside, he'd already taken a shower, changed his clothes, and gathered up his dirty ones to throw in the basin out back. His oil-stained garments were wadded up in his right hand when he made his way to the same side of the house he left Anakin on. The pensive man sat with his legs arched and his folded arms tucked in against his stomach. Obi-Wan silently approached the brooding brunette and lowered to the uneven ground a couple feet away. He placed his soiled linens in the sand next to him and leaned his back to the concrete. He thought conversation would only come by demand, but after a couple minutes, Anakin's black-painted face swiveled towards him, "What are words you would use to describe me?"

His eyebrow arched and his arms crossed, "Is this a trick question?"

"What kind of trick would I be trying to pull over that would necessitate you to list the adjectives you associate with me? Would I be trying to trick you into thinking I'm writing a personal essay on what you think of me?"

"What? No, I meant is this one of those questions that is seemingly harmless but is actually incredibly weighted?"

"Not everything I say is life or death. Now get on with it," Anakin emotionlessly assured with eyes fixed on the amber skyline.

"Impatient."

He mordantly smiled, "Funny."

A grin graced Obi-Wan's lips, "Funny, yes, humorous. Intelligent, extraordinarily so. Ill-mannered, brooding, belligerent, very sweet." When he received an unimpressed stare, he insisted, "I mean it. Strong-willed, spiteful, self-destructive, vicious, charming, charismatic, gifted, selfish." Seeing the slight fall in angle of his friend's head, he was quick to tack on, "Unselfish, thoughtful. Hypersensitive, reactive, aware, wild, reckless, noisy, volatile. Loving, fearless, overconfident, ardent." He finished with what he felt epitomized his beloved as a whole, " _Alive_."

"Nothing else?"

With an unsettled feeling taking up residence in his stomach, his eyebrows creased, "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing," was the soundless reply.

When Anakin used the wall to abruptly stand, he did the same. As the oddly-acting Tatooinian attempted to head towards the back of the house, he grabbed mismatched hands from behind, "This was a weighted question, wasn't it?"

"No."

He pulled Anakin to his chest, uncaring if the oil on the other Forceful would cause the need for a second shower. His arms wrapped around the taller man and his chin settled on a bony shoulder, "Were you wanting me to lie to you? To leave out words with negative connotations?"

"No."

"There's nothing I named I don't love about you." His arms tightened, "Except your self-destructiveness."

The response was dispassionate, "I didn't want you to lie to me."

His arms loosened and he took hold of cybernetic fingers then moved until his back hit concrete again. He slid down the wall to sit on the ground and after a moment, Anakin lowered into the sand in front of him. He tugged at their linked hands and his partner took the invitation to lay between his legs. Anakin's arm circled the older man's waist and the outside of his left leg dug against the sand. The side of his face pressed against solid chest and battle-worn fingers lovingly combed through his shortened curls. Being so close cast an immediate calming effect on him. He wasn't focused on the dark side or the voice. He wasn't focused on pity or control. He closed his eyes and basked in the healing agent that was Obi-Wan's skin, energy, and protection. He barely even registered the kind voice that addressed him, "You were looking for me to say something specific. What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing," he murmured.

"Fine, what were you _anticipating_ I'd say?"

"Nothing."

"I didn't-"

"You didn't say anything I wasn't anticipating and I didn't anticipate anything you didn't say."

Obi-Wan knew he'd hit a ravine. There was no hopping over this emotional chasm, not today. His forlorn eyes found an emerging star on the horizon and he focused on it as they sat in taciturnity. The fingertips of his right hand massaged pronounced vertebrae and the fingertips of his left hand massaged soft scalp while the sun slipped from view. There was still dim daylight when he tickled the back of the brunette's neck, "What do you need from me?"

The answer was indifferent and heartbreaking, "Nothing."

His fingers slipped across an oil-smeared jawline and he kissed whatever skin he could reach, "You are and have always been unlike anyone else, Anakin."

"There aren't exactly other Obi-Wan's running around either, you know," Anakin's mechno-hand reached up to draw the blonde's head down for a heartsick kiss.

::::

Rather than an episode of intense insomnia, he'd taken to an episode of across-the-board depression. Three rotations passed since the Oil Occasion and the only time he got out of bed was to use the fresher. He didn't eat. He didn't repetitively clean. His eyes were redder than the moons of Vinmon Dem from nonstop crying. Obi-Wan knew the best plan of action was to allow another Force bond even though it was going to hurt like hell. He closed their bedroom door behind him, but Anakin gave no acknowledgement of his entrance. His anxiety mounted as he stepped up beside the bed with crossed arms, "Can I get in?"

The rejection was relatively unexpected, "No."

He gripped the sleeves of his tunic and his spine became rigid, "Why not?"

Not even a glance was spared to him, "Because I want to be alone."

He tried to bargain, "I don't have to stay long."

"I _said_ I want to be alone," the Tatooinian hatefully refused.

His hand motioned in front of him indicatively, "You haven't moved from here in hours."

"What? You don't have it fregging timed down to the damn millisecond like you did while I was cleaning?"

He bit his lip and lowered his tremoring hands to his sides, "Do you need to talk?"

"Get a Force-fucking Basic Dictionary and look up the word _alone_."

"Anakin-"

The bilious brunette unexpectedly sat up in the bed and leaned forwards on his fists, "Fine! You want to _talk_? Let's talk about _the truth_! Why don't you ever tell me _the_ _truth_?"

Obi-Wan's head shook in bewilderment, "I always tell you the truth."

"Like karking hell you do! Let's have a little experiment, _shall we_?" He clumsily climbed onto his knees, "Am I too small?"

" _What_?"

" _Small_!" His hands cupped around the sides of his waist, "Am I _too Force-damn small_?"

"What does that have to do with _anything_?"

His hands and eyelids flapped wildly, "Then _yes_ , you _do_ brixing think so! Why can't you _say what you think_ instead of trying to _mess with my head_?"

The Jedi clasped one of the whipping hands, "If you're trying to imply my thoughts on your size hold some material significance, then you could at least let me _tell you_ _what I think_ instead of _putting words in my mouth_. _I think_ if you're healthy, _I don't care_ what size you are."

" _Force_ , that is _such an Obi-Wan answer_."

His fist settled against his hip, "What does that mean?"

"Do you ever tell me what you are _really_ thinking and feeling?" The disgraced Jedi pressed his palm against his temple. "All you do is give me a façade! You give me what you _want me to see,_ not the _genuine, authentic, existing Obi-Wan_! Who knows what you're _really_ thinking or feeling! Fuck knows what _drives you in your bones_!"

Obi-Wan kneeled beside the bed and leaned his elbows on the edge in an attempt to show his noncombative disposition, "Anakin, what are you _talking about_? There's no secret agenda in what I do or say. _If you are healthy, I don't care what size you are_ , _that_ is what I think and I'm not saying it to mask some covert feelings I have on the matter."

"So, you've _never_ told me something that wasn't the _absolute, no strings attached truth_?"

His hand raked through his bangs in perplexity, "What are we even arguing about?"

"Answer the kesting question!"

"The only time I've ever lied to you was when I said I wasn't attached to you."

"You _fucking liar_!" Anakin roared distrustfully. "You lied to me about Satine Kryze!"

"I didn't lie-"

His volume elevated, "What _else_ have you _bullshitted_ me on?"

Obi-Wan used one elbow to lift forward and reach out for his hysterical housemate, "Faneta..."

Anakin pushed backwards to sit cross-legged in the center of the bed. The retreat didn't wound him as much as the whimpering instruction that accompanied it, "Get away from me."

 _Consequences be damned._ He crawled onto the bed and giftwrapped his arms around the petite man's torso, holding tight despite feeble shoves to get loose. He knew if this embrace was truly unwanted, he'd feel a blow of the Force soon enough. His persistence paid off when slim arms desperately hugged his neck. He searched every niche of his brain for something to say, but for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say. _When did you stop trusting me?_ Sobs, sniffles, and whimpers were absorbed by his neck and shoulder for some time before breath bounced against his ear, "I'm sorry I'm so _crazy_. I'm sorry. I expect too much from you, amanica."

Words finally came to him, but when he tried to speak, a mouth crashed against his. The chaotic lip lock only lasted a few seconds before stormy sky-blue eyes entranced him, "You give me the world I still want more."

He gently rested his fingertips under a puffy eye, "Just _tell_ _me_ what you want and I'll give it to you."

A tear trickled over glimmering lashes to leak down the length of his fingers. Anakin tried to will the tears into nonexistence, but they continued to spill forth. He didn't want Obi-Wan to love him out of pity or responsibility or the need to control. He didn't want to confuse sex for love or sex for degradation. He didn't want to be shamefully shallow or be unable to decipher what shallow actually was. He didn't want to live with this voice in his head. He just wanted to love the man that loved him. He just wanted to live with his partner and children like they were a real family. He just wanted Obi-Wan to tell him he's beautiful. He just wanted his sanity back.

"I want you."

"You have me."

 _And you both have me, my treasures._


	15. Please Love Me

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: I'll say it again- I know how fickle FF censors are, so if this story ever gets taken down due to content, you can find it on Archive of Our Own and adult-fanfiction. Same story and author name.

Also, yes, I've applied my own meaning to the words _intended_ and _bedmate_.

Warnings: Sexually inappropriate behavior.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Thirteen: Please Love Me

Obi-Wan was frantic. He'd searched Tatooine since the Salt Flat Fiasco happened five hours earlier.

One minute, he, Luke, and Owen Lars were pleasantly bantering in the compound's kitchen then the next minute, Anakin came in _foaming_ _at the mouth_. Chairs, cabinet doors, a table, and a good deal of dishes met their brutal end and most frighteningly, the Force acted as their method of execution. By the time the expletive-loaded eruption ended, sky-blue irises were golden and rimmed in crimson. Luke cried and screamed as the deranged Force-wielder departed and by the time Obi-Wan calmed the younger Skywalker, he couldn't find his terroristic partner anywhere.

He searched all the common places he knew Anakin to go: the house, the Sea, the Rift. He even checked around the Lowland Basin, the Mesric Plateau, a couple outposts, and the outskirts of Bestine and Anchorhead. The more he struck out, the more hysterical he became _._ His bewitched soulmate was trudging around the recesses of this godforsaken planet while he fumbled about _totally_ _clueless_. _That's what I am. Totally clueless._ He knew the voice was in full cry and even surmised it was specifically preying upon their relationship. It was the only logical explanation for the recent deterioration in Anakin's mental hygiene, as well as the sepulchral distance between them for the last week. Something malignant had been growing and he selfishly, recklessly, put himself before his significant other's safety and wellbeing. He allowed withdrawal, volatility, accusations, and self-deprecation without a word, all because _he_ _was afraid_ Anakin might try to leave or sneak off with Luke. _I want to run away._ _I was ready to take Luke and leave._

After the brunette branded him a liar, there were no more heart to hearts. He tried to ask what was wrong a few times, but after he constantly received irascible brush-offs, he quit asking. They stopped kissing and holding hands. They still slept in the same bed, but they didn't face each other. How could he have been so immobilized by fear that he satisfied such an unwanted, transparent self-fulfilling prophesy? _No more._ He couldn't be afraid for a second longer. As soon as he found and calmed Anakin, he would demand and work towards improvement.

It was past sundown and he still hadn't found his dangerously unhinged housemate. Since he intuitively knew the once-enslaved Tatooinian would not go north, it looked more and more like this chase would end off-planet. Rather waste time with northern or northeastern (inter)cardinal directions, he headed back to the house to exchange his landspeeder for the corvette he'd gotten out of his mission with Ahsoka. He didn't know where to begin his intergalactic search, but he was prepared to reduce the damn galaxy to rubble if that's what it took to find Anakin.

When he skirted along the anterior of the house, he was immediately on alert. Either Anakin returned and didn't close the door or someone broke in. He hurriedly stepped out of the still-running speeder and powered towards his home, noting the intact lock-pad and lack of splintering around the doorframe as he bustled along. Once he was within a couple meters of the doorway, he heard heavy thudding and shattering sounds. He sprinted inside only to find a one-hundred and eighty-eight-centimeter ball of rage and calamity.

Every breakable item within reach was being tossed and smashed. Splintered glass, cerillium, and plastene littered the flextile and if he wasn't so concerned with saving their humble household, he would have found relief that Anakin wasn't using the Force for the destruction. He didn't get a chance to see what item was next up for the demolition derby before he leapt down the landing stairs and crossed the sitting room to grab ahold of the maniacal man. The tug on his upper arms caused Anakin to bunglingly stumble back and drop the glowlamp in his grip.

Given the limited amount of strength applied in the attempted restraint, the Stewjonian knew the score. He spun the younger Forceful in his hands to find glassy sapphirine orbs and disappointedly observed, "You're drunk."

" _Yeah_ , I'm _fuck_ in' _drunk_. Got some Fire und'r the table at the Glass and got _fuckin'_ _drunk_ ," Anakin severely slurred with a hostile eye roll and a curling snarl.

Obi-Wan worked out that his irrational friend must have regained cognizance, returned home from the moisture farm, looted his credit ingots, then went to the infamous Sunglass Bar in Bestine to purchase expensive, hard-to-find Skannbult Likker, also known as Fire Liquor. His fingers tightened over Anakin's shoulders when he scolded, "How in Malachor do you think this will solve _anything_? The dark side will not take a sick day because you decide to ingest one of the most highly volatile intoxicants in the galaxy. Did you even stop to consider the _danger_ you were putting yourself in by going to the Sunglass? Aside from running the risk of being recognized, you would have been _too_ _intoxicated_ to defend yourself had you been attacked. Have you lost all-"

There was a peevish push against his chest, "I _don't fuckin' care._ "

He grabbed ahold of the outstretched hands in front of his chest, "I don't want to fight you, faneta. Don't turn this into a fight between us. I want to help."

Anakin leaned their faces closer together and growled, "Wanna _help_? Pen'trate me."

His arms fully straightened with mismatched hands still tight in his grip, putting distance between them, " _What_?"

The smashed Force-sensitive surged forward to kink his fingers into the front of Obi-Wan's tunics. Only their scrunched-up arms separated them when he hauled their bodies closer together with a guttural dare, " _Penetrate me_. _Fuck me._ "

Only met with aghast, open-mouth silence, he thrusted his arms outwards, taking Obi-Wan's with the motion, and mashed their bodies and lips together. The dumbfounded Jedi didn't return the kiss, so he pulled back a tiny fraction and carnally breathed, "Wanna _help_? Put me on _my knees_ 'n' slide _your cock deep 'nside me._ "

" _Anakin_ …" Obi-Wan placed his hands on his partner's waist to regenerate space between them. The action was countered by the stamp of a liquor-flavored kiss, but he again pushed against the waist in his hands, "Anakin Skywalker! _Stop._ " His protest was disregarded as lips again crashed against his and their hips gyrated together. He shoved against the taller man's torso with more force than before, finally successfully creating distance between them. With gasps falling from his mouth and stars shooting behind his eyes, he tried to make it incontrovertibly clear this escapade would go no further, " _This ends now_."

Anakin peered up through catlike eyes with an intense ferocity, determined to ignore any warning or protest, and stretched his mechno-hand forward to hook into the cognac leather belt around his intended's waist, " _Come 'n me_."

The kittenish mechno-hand was seized and the invitation was vehemently refused, " _No, Anakin_."

Obi-Wan's resolute veneer was not prepared for the flesh hand that shot forward and cupped his indisputably hard manhood through his khaki-colored pants, " _You wan' me_."

"I-I… _kark_ …" He stumbled over his words and thoughts with his soulmate touching him so intimately but in due course removed the ambushing hand from his person. After a couple calming breaths, he evenly spoke, " _Of course_ I want you, I _always_ want you, especially when you-you _grind on me,_ but _nothing_ will _ever_ happen between us while you're _like this_ , _upset and out of your head_."

" _S_ _ay it_!" Anakin wailed as he clutched the older Forceful's shoulder. His eyes were tearful and his voice was riddled with despondency and desperation, "You told 'im you're jus' helpin' me _get back on my feet_! I was _standin' ou'side the door_! You _don' love me_! You're _stuck_ with me so I don' fuck up! You've _always_ b'n _stuck with me_!"

 _That's what set all this off? What I said to Mister Lars?_ Obi-Wan moved forward and caught his whimpering friend in a tender hug, "That's not what I meant at all." He could only manage a strained voice when he pressed his cheek against disheveled hair, "I was making a lame excuse to get him to stop asking about our living arrangements. I didn't put much thought into it. I didn't consider you would either." He pressed a loving kiss into tangled locks, "Even if I _was_ stuck with you, _which I am not,_ I could never be more _thankful_. I love you more than _anything in existence_." One of his hands cradled a protruding shoulder blade, "For the sake of me loving you, aside from what's moral here, I would _never_ take advantage of you while you are drunk."

The admission of adoration appeased Anakin's inebriated mind and he slipped his flesh hand into the back of Obi-Wan's undertunic, sliding it softly over a scarred shoulder, " _Show me_ you love me, 'man'ca. I belong t' you, I'm yours, take a'vant'ge. Your soul w's made for mine 'n' my body w's made _to be fucked by yours_."

Their embrace was broken and emerald jewels cut against sapphire ones, "That's enough. You're going to sleep."

Obi-Wan attempted to turn away, but he was forcibly shoved backwards. He landed on the couch and admittedly did not land gracefully. His arms flailed backwards to try to catch the fall, but he ended up bouncing downwards until his back was against the seat of the couch. Before he could sit up or even change the position of his askew arms, Anakin closed over him and went to work on unbuckling his belt. It only took a couple more seconds before he regained his faculties and reached for frantically-moving fingers. A black-gloved hand swatted at his, so he promptly took hold of slim wrists. Once their limbs were stationary and their eyes were fiercely linked, he sternly repeated, "I said _enough_."

" _Obi-Wan_ , _please_ ," the brunette seductively purred. "I know you're hard, jus', fuck…" He wrenched their arms ajar to bend down and lick a line up the fabric over the Jedi's thigh, "Leas' let me suck you off."

Despite the ache deep in his stomach and groin, Obi-Wan firmly declined, " _No, enough_."

Anakin purposefully laid his head down on the blonde's hip and gazed up with lust-crazed eyes, "I'll do 't howev'r you wan'. I'll swallow if you wan' me to." Flesh and mechanical fingers squeezed tense forearms, " _Please love me_."

Obi-Wan's teeth and eyes clenched as he sightlessly hauled the slighter man up against his torso. The reek of alcohol was overpowering as breath fogged against his collarbone. His hand molded over the back of honey hair and his opposite arm circled around his partner's waist to limit movement.

The pitcher of heartbreak obscured the aftertaste of betrayal.

"If you think you have to offer your mouth or body to be loved by me, I have done something _very_ wrong."

::::

The events of the previous night flashed through his mind like clips of a horror holofilm and he was drenched in humiliation and dread. For the sake of his own ego, he didn't want to get out of bed and face the situation. For the sake of Obi-Wan and their relationship, he was going to anyway. He couldn't seem to swallow the solid mass in his throat as he scooted out of bed and ironed out his bedraggled clothes.

As soon as he saw Obi-Wan at the kitchen table, hawk-bats took flight in his stomach. The feeling only became more nauseating when he realized there was no trace of the mess he vaguely remembered making on the sitting room floor. He didn't know what he expected Obi-Wan to do after noticing him, but it certainly wasn't to smile and greet, "Good morning. I made you some H'Kak bean tea. It will help with the hangover."

He tried to return the smile, but it probably fell flat. He took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs, "Thank you for cleaning up." He swiftly pointed over his shoulder towards their bedroom, "And you didn't have to let me stay in there. With you." When he received a mystified stare, his eyes focused on his hands, "I-I don't remember everything, but I recall the gist of what happened."

Obi-Wan honestly didn't think anything about the previous night would be remembered given the involvement of Fire Liquor. Anakin couldn't even stand up by the time he'd been put to bed. Obi-Wan debated all morning about how he was going to approach the previous night, but it would seem the conversation was served up to him like a Rodian Platter. He placed his fork on the tabletop and leaned back in his chair, "It's your bed, too, Anakin. That is the _very least_ of my concerns. I am more concerned you think I don't love you because we haven't slept together. Do you think that?"

Anakin turned his head to the side with his eyelids flickering like the wings of a sentinel beetle, "No, I don't think that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The Tatooinian had been _right_ the week before. In his effort to heal Anakin, Obi-Wan let the most basic foundation of their entire relationship crumble. They'd both stopped speaking the language of honesty in the last few months. It was time to reconstruct this foundation, to speak in their native tongue again, or they'd never be able to repair their damaged trust. He pushed his plate back with his forearm and settled his folded arms on the table, "Do you know why I've never tried to have sex with you?"

Anakin leered fearfully out of the corner of his eye. This was it. It was finally time for Obi-Wan to admit he was repulsive, untouchable. He'd been around so long his old master just got used to him, felt sorry for him, and that's where any feelings of attachment came from, but there could never be a physical relationship because he was marred, half-machine monster. He recognized that fed-up look. _This is it_.

"I don't ever want you to think that's what I'm here for."

His head turned to stare in winded astonishment. The feeling intensified with the consequent confession, "We only instituted _us_ a short time ago and I've been afraid if I made sexual advances, you would think it was the only reason I fought to be with you."

Anakin leaned his palms against the edge of the table, "Why would you _possibly_ think I would make that judgement?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head with an arched brow, "You _often_ misinterpret things I do, Anakin, and you often _commit_ to those misinterpretations even if I persistently deny them."

The brunette lifted his elbows to the rim of the table and cradled the top of his face in his hands. _Wobbly libration, wh_ _o knows what it would have tried to convince me of if he tried to fuck me? Even when he doesn't have all the details, he's_ _Force-damn right. How could I forget he's_ always _Force-damn right_ _?_ His hands lowered to the table to uncover his reddened eyes and he chokingly enlightened, "I know last night was…fucked up, from top to bottom _fucked up_ , but the…the emotion behind it was real. I…I know we haven't been _together_ very long, but _I've loved you_ for _eighteen,_ almost _nineteen_ , _years_. I'm…it's that...I want every part of you."

A hand softly slipped into his, "I want you, too."

A sensation similar to hunger pains gnawed at his stomach and a hesitant smile plucked at his lips, "You do?"

"There isn't a moment I don't."

A full smile stretched over his mouth and he gripped the hand in his more firmly. However, Obi-Wan's expression unexpectedly soured and he was overcome with trepidation and uncertainty. There were a few moments of silence before his partner's pained, melodic voice gusted in the space between them, "Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you last night? I wanted you, the Force knows I did, because it was your voice, your eyes, your hair, your hands. But _my_ Anakin, _my Anakin,_ doesn't _beg_ or _have to get drunk_ to express himself and I knew your mind was acting as a playground for the dark side."

Fingers constricted his palm to bone-crushing levels, "It can't be _anywhere near_ a physical bond between us, Anakin. _I can't deal with that._ I can stand and let you scream in my face for ten hours straight, but if I made love to you and darkness _came anywhere close to us_ , I _could not_ deal with it. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Anakin slumped down in his chair. _How did I not realize he has considered this as much as I have? That he might have been suffering, too? Selfish was the perfect word to describe me._ His eyes fixed on their conjoined hands when he muttered, "Yes."

Based on the night before, Obi-Wan knew the subject of a physical bond between them was a sensitive one, but he needed to address it directly and truthfully. He felt their relationship depended on it. He felt Anakin's stability depended on it. A cavernous breath passed through his lips before he digressed, "Do you remember the night I gave a portion of my Living Force to you?"

His housemate's head perked up and he received a nod of assent, "The dark side overcame you and spoke through you. It said to me… I restrained you after we fell and it asked me how long had I…fantasized about pinning you down. I told it I knew it was not you, so it began speaking about you in third person. It asked…" He closed his eyes and drew in an acute breath, "…it asked, wouldn't you love to fuck his smart mouth? I was so angry all I could do was tell it to leave you, but it didn't. It carried on and said I'd get…tired of your smart mouth. I told it to leave again. I didn't know what else to do.

"And then it…what made me lose control…it told me a…a… gag would suffice while I…took you until you bled. That's when I broke off half of my Living Force and shot it into yours. It wasn't because I knew it would save you. It was because I was so furious and desperate, I didn't know what else to do. I know I should have told you, but I've barely been able to stand to think about it, let alone talk about it. I'm only talking about it now because I need to make you understand I can't… it upsets me to have it near us like that. I also realize it's one of the things I've told you, or _not told you_ , that could be considered a lie and _I am sick_ of lies and unsaid truths between us."

The back of Anakin's flesh hand smeared over his mouth, "I don't think you're a liar. I was being an asshole-"

Obi-Wan grasped his forearm, "No, Anakin. There have been things I've lied about, or simply don't speak of, and I don't want that to be our relationship. I don't want that to be our _friendship_ or our _relationship_. That _never_ used to be who we are. You were a seeker of truth and I was-"

"A giver of truth," the former general smiled. His unhampered hand streamed through his hair, "Even back then, I was never very good at giving the truth."

"Oh, _really_?" Obi-Wan laughed. "I remember a certain padawan who told a seven-year-old Togrutan Jedi youngling her new boots were _ugly_. And when the padawan was asked _why_ he told this poor, crying youngling her new combat boots were ugly, I do believe he replied _Because they were ugly. She asked my opinion. Was I supposed to lie to her?_ "

After a few seconds of blank, hushed staring, Anakin calmly stated, "Those boots _were_ ugly."

" _That's_ what I thought. I could never _stop_ you from giving the truth, at least as you perceived it, no matter what I did. This problem we're having, this inability to say what we are thinking and feeling, to be honest with one another, it is what the dark side wants. It wants us to lie to each other, for you to question me and our relationship, for us to be separated, for you to fly off the handle, for you to get reeking drunk, for you to degrade yourself. Its endgame is to take you as it did at the end of the War or the night in the Sea and it will do anything it can to achieve those ends. That's why I need you to walk with me along a path of defiance. We may not be able to silence the voice, but we can take steps to lessen its influence. Let's start by taking care of ourselves and being honest with one another."

These indisputable facts only elicited a defeated sigh from the younger Forceful.

"I _did_ lie to you about Satine."

Anakin peered up with raised eyebrows.

"I've been trying to justify what I _didn't tell you_ because I thought it was in your better interest, but I realize it _was_ deception." A smile tugged at Obi-Wan's lips, "I also refrained from telling you because I know how jealous you get and didn't want you to get unnecessarily worked up over it."

Mechno-fingers restlessly curved against the oka-wood table, "I lied to you about Padmé and my marriage, so…"

He tried to maintain the momentum of the conversation, "There's something else I want to get off my chest. It's about last night. What you did... this is a more neoteric problem and I didn't realize how bad it was until last night… I'll come right out and say it. It doesn't matter if it's an Initiate when you're ten, a Senator when you're seventeen, another padawan when you're eighteen, or the dark side a few months ago: it _eats at my core_ when someone _or thing_ degrades you. Or when _you degrade yourself_. You _never_ used to do that. Before the end of the War, you _never_ degraded yourself. I…I need to make it clear I will _never_ love or accept what you did last night. You are worth more, you deserve more, and you should demand more for yourself like you always have."

It took Anakin surprisingly little analyzation to recognize the deep devotion in the reproach he'd been bestowed. It took a lot of chutzpah to recount the vulgar tale from the Sea but even more chutzpah to condemn behavior you know someone is better than. Obi-Wan wanted to see him strong, confident, and stable. _He's not trying to twist my mind. He doesn't want me to bow to anyone. Not to the darkness…not even to him._ He rose from his chair and stood beside the seated Stewjonian. His fingers tunneled into the shoulder of a beige tunic, "Even if you…" … _don't think I'm beautiful and end up never fucking me, you're perfect and I never want you to change._

He decided against this provocative statement. Instead he opted to try to be more gracious to the sweet soul gazing up at him and bent down to kiss the blonde's earlobe, "Thank you for that night in the Sea and last night, my amanica. I know you would never degrade me. Degradation is not an action you are capable of."

Obi-Wan was glad the man snuggling his neck couldn't see the blush burning his cheeks and ears like an ion blaster, "If we…I want you to be in your right mind. I want you to be in the light."

 _Yeah, you're definitely perfect._ Anakin breathed in deeply against pale skin, "So do I."

Pink still lingered on the Jedi's cheeks when he commanded, "Yes, well. Now we have all that out of the way, you need to drink this tea and get dressed."

"Why?"

He reached back to press the end of his index finger against a sun-blushed forehead as though to shame the other man's forgetfulness, "Because you have an _incredibly_ upset son you need to see-"

Anakin jumped to his full height and interjected, "Forget the flotting tea!"

Obi-Wan grabbed cybernetic fingers as the brunette stepped towards the sitting room, "-and you have his _incredibly_ enraged caretakers you need to talk to if you want to keep an open pass to the farmland. And I hope you're prepared to beg because you know how Mister Lars-"

"Then let's _go_!"

The older Force-user gripped the handle of the teacup and held it out towards his antsy friend, "You're moving slower than a Nautolan moon-snail and your eyes are bloodshot. Drink the tea or Luke is going to think you're spiced up. Or down. Whichever is worse."

The teacup was hoisted from his hold and the orange-colored liquid inside it was downed in one long, single swig.

"Let's go already!"

::::

Although they mustered up a relatively open conversation on the morning following the Fire Liquor Letdown, there were still parsecs upon parsecs of unchartered space to pioneer. The next couple rotations were spent in prevailing silence, though neither Forceful could judge whether the time was intended for momentary recovery or for preparation to sail the sea of drudgery and possibility that lay before them. On the second night of their mutual retreat, Obi-Wan decided it didn't matter if he was recovering or if he was preparing- he wanted to do it with Anakin. He turned in their bed to face the Tatooinian, surprised to find unblinking cobalt globes staring directly at him. He settled on his side and returned the intense eye contact, which endured for some time, before he raspingly propositioned, "Are you suffering from your idiosyncratic restlessness by any chance?"

Anakin tiredly smiled, "The key word is _idiosyncratic_. I'm _always_ suffering from restlessness."

"Do you want to go somewhere tomorrow? Just you and me." He mentally kicked himself and quickly added, "Unless you want to take Luke. We can always take Luke with us. That goes without saying."

"He's still pretty mad at me for making the Larses upset. He'd probably like a rotation to himself. Where would _you and me_ go?"

"We could go to the Iel un Uam Oasis."

"That's probably two-thousand or more kilometers from here."

The blonde's shoulder dismissively shrugged, "So? We have a corvette."

His bedmate's smile morphed into a triumphant smirk, "What about playing it safe?"

He reached forward to caress a sun-dusted cheek, "The ship is unmarked, unflagged, and no one goes to lifeless oases in the middle of the Eastern Dune Sea, so we're already safer than you were three nights ago, love."

"When did you become such an expert on this crummy planet?"

" _You_ told me about the Iel un Uam Oasis about fifteen or so years ago, you silly man."

Anakin chuckled, "Alright, let's go. But I warn you, I have a lot of memories in that place. Who knows how maudlin I might get."

"Consider me warned," Obi-Wan heedlessly accepted. With one last smile, Anakin finally broke their eye contact and turned in the bed. He longingly stared at the slender back turned towards him _._ _Show me you love me, amanica._ He shuffled across the bed. Right as curious eyes peeked around to see what all the movement was, he melded the front of his body against the back of his partner's. His arm encircled Anakin's waist and his forehead pressed against the base of his bedmate's head. After a moment, cybernetic fingers entwined with his. After the quivering under his hand and arm ceased, he soothingly exhaled, "Goodnight, my dear."

The return was tranquil and enraptured, "Goodnight."

::::

Haryazina Lake. A seven-hundred-meter-long, lifeless salt pit filled with water from underground reservoirs. It was surrounded by thyme, shrubs, lovegrass, palm trees, and, beyond that, sheets of desert.

"I hate this dumpa," Anakin sighed to himself with his hand vised over his eyes to block out the blinding light of the suns.

A voice from behind him huffed, "I heard that."

His hand waved up and down next to his shoulder, "I didn't say anything."

"Why was this your _go-to hermitage_ as a child if you hate it and think it's a dump?"

He promenaded to the border of the lake to get a closer view of glimmering greenish-blue water before spotting a mildly defoliated area only a little way from where he was standing. He trekked to the area and sat down on sandy terrain, facing the water. Obi-Wan lowered to the ground next to him soon after. His mechno-hand reached up to grab hanging blades of lovegrass as he sighed, "I hate it because I had to come here, not the other way around."

He broke the blade between his fingers in two, "There were times when I couldn't take it. Someone would call me _slave_ or order me to clean up their mess and I'd… _crack._ I'd run away from Watto and get a ride with haul truck operators, transients, whoever I could find until I was close enough to walk the rest of the way here. There was water I could purify with a fire, there was solitude, so here I came.

"It wasn't often I ran away, but when I did, I took my time going back. I'd stay here for rotations at a time, maybe even a week. It was the only place I knew of that Watto wouldn't send for me. A bounty hunter would have charged that cheap-ass too much to come all the way up here from Mos Espa just to retrieve a slave.

"After I got my fill of this wasteland, I'd head back the way I came. I _had_ to go back. For Mom. I could have fled from him and survived, even as a youngling, but my mother couldn't have. She would have never survived roughing it in the desert, with no roof, no food, no order or laws. One good thing is that when I lost my shit and couldn't take it anymore, I didn't have to worry about her. Watto never bothered her when I was gone and I knew he never would. We both knew she was the only reason I kept coming back."

Obi-Wan leaned over to plant a kiss on a bronze cheek, "There's no doubt your mother was relieved to see your face every time you returned to her." His fingers combed through sun-warmed curls, "Speaking of traversing the planet without proper transportation: how did you get from the salt flat to our house to the Sunglass back to our house without our landspeeder or corvette?"

Anakin chuckled, "The same way I came _here_ as a child. An ancient art form called hitchhiking."

" _First of all,_ you have no idea how upset I _still_ am that you spread your face all over Tatooine. You know better than anyone what salty gossips live on this rock. I'm still expecting ramifications from that. Second of all, you were very _touchy_ when you were drunk on Likker, so that leaves a big question mark on how you behaved with whoever you hitched a-"

His back stiffly straightened, "I wasn't _touchy_ with anyone that wasn't named Obi-Wan. I rode in the back of a haul truck with a bunch of metals to get home."

His declaration was disputed, "I don't see how you can be certain of anything considering how drunk you were, but-"

"I'm certain."

"I mean while you were at the bar even-"

" _I didn't touch anyone,_ " Anakin sensitively insisted. "I didn't offer to touch anyone and _nobody touched me._ "

"Alright," Obi-Wan quietly conceded. After a moment, he held three fingers in the air and tried to make peace by resuming their original conversation, "Third of all, you hitched rides with transients while you were a _nine-year-old_?"

"I actually started doing it when I was six," the frowning brunette split another piece of lovegrass. "Not all of us can have perfect Coruscanti childhoods."

Obi-Wan lowered his fingers and shook his head, "My childhood wasn't perfect, but that aside, I'm…amazed and thankful someone didn't try to hurt or rob or r-"

"It's not for lack of trying," the reminiscent Forceful disdainfully interrupted. His demeanor seemed to change in an instant when he turned with a little smile, "I could take care of myself. As Master Qui-Gon told you, I was quite advanced for my age."

The Jedi Master pointed at his own chest in emphasis, " _I_ raised you, my little padawan; I don't have to rely on Qui-Gon's endorsements." He ignored the eye roll he earned and pointed towards the lake, "Do you want to get in?"

The invitation was met with a sharp snort, "Its salinity is thirty-nine percent. I sure fucking don't."

He teasingly prodded a bony shoulder, "Not even your feet?"

Anakin twisted his shoulder away with a groan, "Since you insist."

They took their time removing their shoes and socks and rolling up their pantlegs. The innermost bank of the Haryazina resembled a precipice, dropping down a number of centimeters from solid earth into water, so they were easily able to lower their feet and ankles into the hypersaline lake. The scorching heat of the desert day drenched their skin as they quietly sat side by side, enjoying the lukewarm water flowing and ebbing against their feet.

Anakin thought things were so peachy he never expected a familiar multiphonic hiss to swarm his head. _All things come and go like the tide. When you tell him how much the darkness has influenced your relationship, he will be disgusted by you. He will leave you. He said the reason he could not touch you was because of the darkness inside you. When you reveal yourself to him, when he sees the scope of your vileness, he will leave you._

His eyes squeezed shut. _We may not be able to silence the voice, but we can take steps to lessen its influence._ Dirt and sand clumped in his fisted hands, "Are you going to leave me?"

Obi-Wan's head snapped to the side in complete confoundment. There were no arguments, no accusations, no misunderstandings. Conversation was amiable and engaged. There were no indications of derangement. Where did this come from? He drew his feet from the water and walked them along the ground until he was able to turn in Anakin's direction. His legs bent beside his body and he leaned forward to ensure their eyes connected, "No. I am not going anywhere. Why would you ask me that?"

He wished he could blame the tears and overemotional state on the parched heat, but that was made impossible when a broken voice bemoaned, "I've let so much happen."

He cupped Anakin's hot cheek, "I'm _not_ going anywhere."

"I've let too much happen."

He'd made a resolution to himself to address the issues damaging his soulmate and their relationship and he wasn't going to fail his first test, "What did it say to you during those two rotations?"

He waited patiently for an answer, but when Anakin scooted towards the water, a signal of disengagement, he shifted onto his knees to hook his hands over the retreating man's shoulders, "Don't tune me out. Before I left for Corellia, we were finally starting to be open with one another. You were talking to me. Three mornings ago, you were talking to me. Don't stop talking to me."

Even though the voice tried to discourage it, Anakin _wanted_ to talk to Obi-Wan. _You can talk to me about anything. Give me your pain. Whatever it said to you, don't let it fester like an infected wound on your mind, energy, and soul._ He wasn't ready to talk about every single grisly thing that haunted his head, past or current, but maybe he could make small strides. Maybe if he broke down all the thoughts and concerns one by one, it wouldn't overwhelm him or scare off Obi-Wan. _What's one thing that's been making me want to put my head through a wall?_ After a few stiff moments, he raised a long-unaddressed concern, "Why did you save me that night?"

"What night?"

"In the Sea."

Obi-Wan gawked at the absurdity, "What do you mean? You were _overcome_. I couldn't _abandon_ _you_ in that state."

"You did it to prevent me from succumbing to the dark side."

"I did it because my soulmate was in extremis," he elaborated with fidelity and conviction. "I was prepared to die if that's what it took to preserve you."

"So, you did it to protect me?"

" _Yes_. Why do you _think_ I took the actions I did that night?" His brain moved at full tilt to try to discern what Anakin could have possibly perceived his actions to be motivated by. _You did it to prevent me from succumbing to the dark side. Why don't you ever tell me the truth? You think I will fall again. Fuck knows what drives you in your bones! You did it to prevent me from succumbing to the dark side_. _You don' t love me! You're stuck with me so I don't fuck up! You're stuck with me so I don't fuck up!_ _You think I only did it because I'm a Jedi and you were a threat._ He turned Anakin by the shoulders, "Do you think I do what I do to control you?" He lost all patience for any stalling tactics when he edgily pressed, "Do you? Answer me."

"I don't know."

His eyes narrowed in incredulous offense before he scaled to his feet. His fingers raked back and forth through the gray and caramel hair at his temples as he paced in an imperfect circle. Only after he calmed down enough that he was sure he wasn't going to yell did he crossly demand, "When did you come to this conclusion? Did you decide this when you were eleven? When you were nineteen? Twenty-three? Nine months ago? When you were ingesting red dwarf while I was gone four weeks ago? And don't say you didn't get soused while I was gone. I found the empty bottle in the kitchen the morning I returned." His palms grated over the sides of his skull, "I have a pretty good theory when this conclusion was drawn."

Anakin shrunk under his old master's rare show of rage, "I made no conclusion."

Obi-Wan refused to let this conversation be evaded. He stopped pacing to look directly at the Tatooinian and toughly challenged, "The hell you didn't. That's why your energy has been abusing mine during our bonds. _It spoke to you_. _It's still speaking to you._ I know these thoughts aren't coming from _you. You_ know better. At least you do until you're intoxicated, then it appears you can be manipulated into _anything_."

"It-"

"I know some things I do or say seem constrictive, like when I tell you not to leave the house alone-"

"Obi-Wan-"

"-but it _is_ to protect you and keep you in the light."

"Obi-Wan-"

"For the reason that I _love you_. For the reason that the thought of the dark side consuming your soul causes me _physical pain_ and the prospect of not being able to see your face or hear your voice makes me want to crawl into myself and _forget I ever existed_." He marched to Anakin and kneeled in the barren soil, "The dark side controlled you, Sidious controlled you, the Council tried to control you. I'd _never_ try to control you for _any_ reason. Your body and your mind belong to _you_. Any thought you have or action you take should be _yours_. That's one of the reasons I get so upset by the dark side invading your mind. It's trying to take and corrupt what belongs to _you._ "

The side of his upturned index finger hooked under Anakin's dimpled chin, "Immobilizing you at the end of the War was _the only_ time I've ever tried to control you and I only did it because it _wasn't you_. And even knowing it _wasn't you mentally and spiritually,_ it was the _hardest_ thing I've _ever_ had to do because I have _no right_ to control your body. But the choice was between controlling your body in the most extreme manner or allowing the dark side to _use it_ _and its power_. I…I couldn't let the dark side have your body. It already took your mind and I couldn't...

"If I'd known there was another option…if I'd known there was a way to save you without controlling you and hurting you… I would have willingly taken Senator Amidala's place and given my Living Force to you so Luke and Leia would still be with their mother and you would still be with your wife. And even if you never believe me, that's the truth."

Although the tears in Obi-Wan's eyes never broke loose, the tears in Anakin's eyes did. He tried to generate a suitable response for such bold, loving declarations, but the only thing he could focus on was how he'd let himself fall so totally under the demon's spell. How could he have been so outwitted and deceived to such an extent that he forgot who he was dealing with?

This man was willing to give his life to save Anakin from the dark side. It wasn't some empty promise of _I would have gone in your wife's place_. In the Sea, he proved he wouldn't hesitate to forfeit his Living Force if it meant Anakin would get to subsist. Yet the person he was so willing to die for was somehow questioning the authenticity of his love. How did the dark side twist and contort so effectively that Anakin questioned this immaculate angel? Not only questioned but _accused, blamed, lied to, abused_. In his madness, he even compared the two as a father to his son.

His soulmate took care of him. His soulmate protected him. In what world did Obi-Wan not love him?

The finger under his chin unfurled and stroked along his jawline, "What did it say to make you withdraw from me?"

He didn't know what to say, but Obi-Wan deserved better than silence, "I'm not trying to withdraw from you."

"Yet you're doing so expertly."

"I don't mean to. There's…" The occasional tear broke loose as he tried to rise above the tempest of emotion whirling within him like a hyperwind storm. The voice's rancorous laughter rang in his ears as it mockingly repeated what Obi-Wan so sweetly said about his children and Padmé. _Shut up! Shut up, shut up, fuck you!_ He closed his eyes and pressed his palms against his ears, "…there's so much that goes on in my head and I don't know what's _me_ and what's _it._ It twists things and I try to stop it, but I _can't_ stop it and the more I fight it, the stronger it gets. I try to fight it... I want to tell you _all of it,_ I want to tell you all these fears and, and…it's made me…if I tell you what I think or want or feel, then whatever you respond with is only because I asked or cried and you feel obligated or sorry, not because you mean it."

Hands clasped over his to pull them from away his ears, "Are you talking about us sleeping together?"

"No." _Don't lie, Anakin. You do the same shit, you're going to get the same results._ "I mean…not only."

"I'm not trying to beat you over the head, but I need to make this _clear as a solar eclipse_ in the case I wasn't clear the other morning," Obi-Wan leaned forward on his hand to draw their eyes closer. "If you doubt I love you and doubt I do the things I do _because_ of my love for you, then you would only doubt me and my motives if I took you to bed. _That_ would very likely kill me. Furthermore, I don't want us to make love because you need a point proven. It should happen because we can't stand to be apart for a second longer."

"I don't doubt you love me," Anakin refuted.

Emerald eyes lowered in pain and distress, "If you didn't, you would have never said _Yo_ _u don't love me_ and _Pl_ _ease love me_ when you were drunk that night."

 _So selfish._ He got so inescapably wound up in his own head and emotions that he never realized how much hurt his doubts caused his partner. The Oil Occasion happened because he tried to show that his love was unchanged. The possibility of his motive being questioned never even crossed his mind. How would it have felt if his motive had been questioned? How would he of reacted?

How would he ever convince Obi-Wan he'd grasped the magnitude of this galaxy-shaking failure without it seeming insincerely contrived? Their trust was broken. In so many ways, their trust was broken.

He didn't realize he moved until the lake water clipped against his toes. _Salt and water. Maybe that will wash away my sins._ Without much consideration beyond that, he stepped into the Haryazina. His leg and pantleg were swallowed up to the knee and his other leg followed suit. He waded deeper into the water. By this point, Obi-Wan jogged to the bank and sat down, swiftly lowering both legs into the lake. Once he closed the distance between them, he grabbed a black, sun-heated sleeve and turned the brunette around. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by the tears.

When an embrace was attempted, Anakin launched back into the water. Once he stood up again, his tunics were wholly soaked and the water stood above waist-level. His voice sounded as sun-dried as the region around them, "It turned my mind inside out. Black was white. Matter was antimatter. Shallow was deep. But now…as I'm standing here in this _hermitage oasis of my childhood_ all I can think is _I'm as stupid as a child._ _I'm sorry_ , Obi-Wan. I'm sorry I _ever believed it."_

The salt from his hands burned when they pressed into his eyes as his face bent nearer to the surface of the water with each sob. Obi-Wan swam to him within seconds and braced him.

This situation was formulaic. Even though he often pushed the people he loved until they were ready to abandon him, testing them, if they ever actually did, or he thought they were actually going to, he would break down. He'd first demonstrated this paradoxical behavior in his preteen years, which was why his former master was confident that even if he questioned _Obi-Wan's love for him_ , he was fervid in _his love for Obi-Wan._ No matter how nasty the push or insult, he didn't actually want to drive a wedge between them or want Obi-Wan to leave. _I thought about how franging fed up you probably are with me and how much you probably want to slap my mouth or leave or kick me out…_ This was the breakdown part of the program. He was afraid he'd pushed too far this time and would be abandoned.

Of course, Obi-Wan had no intention of leaving his soulmate. He only wanted a little honesty and openness. His hand gently rubbed against a protruding spine, "I don't mean to sound like I'm blaming you for your afflictions. I only want you to talk to me about them, even if they are upsetting to us. That way we can face them down together."

Anakin shakily inhaled, "I'm sorry I put you through what I did the other night."

"I know." Obi-Wan reassured, "Just _t_ _alk to me_ instead of getting spaced out on imported liquor next time, alright?"

"I'm not ready to talk about everything yet."

"I can accept that as long as you let me know... _something._ Even if you only say to me _I don't feel well today, it's bothering me_ ; give me _something_."

The voice screamed not to take the chance, that it would be the first domino in the fall of their relationship, but Anakin wanted to take it. _The first step is taken on faith, not sight._

"I don't feel well today. It's bothering me."

A hand caressed his cheek, "While we've been out here?"

"Yeah."

The blonde rubbed his hand up and down a pronounced ribcage, "I'm sorry I didn't notice, but I'm glad you told me. Let's talk. It doesn't have to be about what it's saying. We can talk about anything at all, that way you have a distraction and you aren't focusing on it."

 _Something that's making you want to bang your head into a wall._ Anakin couldn't stop the rogue sob that broke free from his lips, "Why do you love me?"

Obi-Wan passionately kissed ruby lips before declaring, "There's ten million reasons why I love you. Where to start… Actually, I do know where to start. No matter how many times darkness tries to cast over you, it cannot take your light. I'd like to think the inextinguishable light inside you is why your Living Force completes mine. And maybe it's because of the bond our Living Forces so easily slip into that you know me better than anyone else." He pressed a feverish kiss against the humid, salty flesh of his partner's neck, "Then again, in our bones, we have the same marrow. I think you were born knowing me better than anyone else."

Anakin's arms slipped around the older man's neck. "I mean...why do you love me after all the trials I put on you?"

Obi-Wan affectionately smiled, "There's no color in life without you, love. You may not always bring the kind of excitement I would prefer, but I will always prefer you and your antics stressing me out as opposed to not having you around. Except when you throw oil on me."

"Come on, that was sidesplitting."

He nipped the end of Anakin's nose, "I can put up with _nearly_ anything from you as long as I am able to attend to your happiness."

The brunette only gave a little smile, "So, my energy completes yours, does it?"

"I told you before that the only time I know completion is when we meditate, didn't I?" The back of battle-worn fingers caressed his cheek, "I knew how fulfilling it would be to bond before we ever did it. That's probably why you're the only one I've ever been willing to bond with."

"Really?"

Their lips touched only when certain letters were spoken, "You didn't know you're the only one I've ever bonded with? I thought it would be obvious only the light of my life is allowed to touch my Living Force."

 _In what fucking world, Anakin?_ A light touch between their lips was succeeded by an apology, "I let myself get lost in this briny depth of banthashit and I kept drifting and drifting. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"You're the one I love and trust, not this voice in my head."

The epiphany was sadly conditional. The dark side had deceived Anakin into great darkness on multiple occasions spanning multiple years. Obi-Wan dreamed of a world where he didn't have to take the dark side into account, but he knew that in the current reality it would be suicide to try to pretend the eternal enemy wasn't a threat to them and their relationship. He could only hope it went into remission for a long while, that way there would be unhindered time to rebuild their trust.

Whether the epiphany was conditional or not though, hearing those promising words and staring into hopeful eyes made his heart palpitate. His lips delicately pressed against Anakin's. When he pulled back from the brief contact, he felt the heat of his partner's mouth following his and reestablished contact. Anakin's tongue gently prodded against his lips and he happily granted access. The explorative tongue slid along his teeth then touched his. Despite the high heat from the two suns, he felt goosebumps and cold chills prickle over his body. He couldn't remember the last time they'd kissed like this. _If we've ever kissed like this_. The muscles of their mouths lightly caressed before Anakin's tongue retreated, leading his to follow. He could only stand the suckling on his tongue for a limited time before he had to pull away- mostly for his sanity. When his lips were finally his own again, he breathlessly beseeched, "We have to go rotation by rotation."

"Hour by hour."

He nodded, "Even better."

There was a brief moment of heated staring before their mouths fused together again. Their open lips searched desperately for as much contact as physically possible before Anakin felt his body beginning to react. He dislodged his mouth and limbs from their embrace and floated back in the water- mostly for his sanity. He wiped at lingering tears and sniffled, "I really added to the salinity."

Obi-Wan fondly smiled, "You probably should have avoided that. There's enough salt in here to dry up our blood as is. My vote is to get out."

"Seconded," Anakin waded towards the bank of the Haryazina.

Once they hauled themselves onto the bank, Obi-Wan tried to wring out his clothes as Anakin laid back on the ground underneath weeping lovegrass. He was already coated in saltwater; he may as well add dirt and sand to the mix. Obi-Wan eventually gave up on his never-ending task and sat to the left of Anakin's frame. The left half of his torso arched over the left half of Anakin's and his elbows and forearms settled into the ground above the other man's shoulders. He leaned their noses close together, "I love you."

Anakin bumped the sides of their noses, "Love you, too." He planted a kiss against a bewhiskered chin, "Sex isn't the only thing I want out of our relationship."

Obi-Wan laughed at the seemingly random statement, "That's good to know."

"I'm serious," he encircled his arms around his fellow Forceful's waist. "I know I seem like I have a one-track mind about it, but that's not why I'm here either."

"I know."

"You're my best friend and I've loved you since my age reached double digits." Anakin tried to retain his serious comportment, but Obi-Wan's beautiful smile was contagious. Snickers weaved into his subsequent statements, "You taught me how to be a Jedi. You taught me how to speak Bith. You taught me how to cheat at _Gundark Trainer_." When he heard musical laughter, his heart melted and he pulled the body above his closer, "When it seems like I'm pressing, it's because you've always been a part of my life and I'm ready for you to be a part of _me_."

Obi-Wan's mouth firmly pressed against his cheek, "I'm already a part of you."

He lazily kissed Anakin's jaw, eyelids, chin, and nose. Their lips repeatedly met in open-mouthed kisses when Anakin felt a nudge to his energy. His moan was swept away on an arid breeze as wet lips dropped against his neck, "Tell me I'm not a part of you. Tell me this isn't intimate."

Threads of energy delicately tangled around his. _My energy has been in fits of pain all day, sweetheart. Don't tease me._ Hair from Obi-Wan's beard tickled his skin with each word, "Don't I kiss you? Hold you? Touch you? Lay in bed with you? Don't I allow your energy to love mine?"

A wall of energy undulated forth and braided with his. Both men moaned at the full Force bond and that was the last thing they remembered. It was unclear how long they laid together under the shade of weeping lovegrass, completely entranced in each other's energy, but Anakin guessed it was at least an hour based on the shadows of the foliage around them. They were both drenched in sweat from close proximity and the midday suns by the time the bond ended, but their overheated flesh didn't stop them from locking lips in an animated show of affection. Their mouths eventually parted and the younger Force-sensitive smiled, "Like I said before: you give me the world and I still want more."

Obi-Wan returned the smile and lifted his right hand to wipe sweat away from a dark brow, "That's okay. I still want more, too." He leaned in for an innocent kiss as his fingers strayed to toffee curls, "Don't stop talking to me."

"I don't have anything else to say."

"I don't mean right this second. I meant in general. You don't know how happy I am that you've spoke to me more than once in the past few rotations. Sometimes when you get in one of your moods and you don't want to talk, I feel like a complete failure."

Anakin's hand slid up his partner's sweat and saltwater-soaked back, "Failure?"

"Yes."

"You've never been a failure."

Obi-Wan's smile did not match his response, "Sure, I have been. In fact, I distinctly remember saying the words _I have failed you_ on Mustafar."

"I think I was the one fighting on the side of the Sith, Obi-Wan. You have it a little backwards."

"If I didn't let things go or keep things I shouldn't to myself, you might have never turned to the Sith."

"I still feel like you're describing me."

"I miscommunicate equally as much as you do, believe it or not."

"Then we'll have to get our asses in line and try a second time." The look of befuddlement the statement received prompted the clarification, "To be more open with one another. I'm willing to try if you are."

This time, Obi-Wan's smile and words were on the same wavelength, "Of course I am."

"Done deal," he proudly declared.

The last syllable was barely spoken before lips closed over his in a tender touch. Obi-Wan's mouth veered to the side of his face, trailing down his throat before working back up to his ear, "Let's start with why you threatened Calitraz Sadizir's bowels when you thought he was trying to pursue me."

His right leg wrapped around the Jedi's left hip to flip their positions. He placed his hands on either side of his friend's head as his fully extended arms held him aloft, "He wasn't _trying_ _to pursue_ you. He was _pursuing_ you. Besides, I think we should start with how you knew the voice and I crossed figurative lightsabers while you were on the assignment with Snips. Hence you saying _no matter what it said to you_ on that datapad."

"I think we have a lot to talk about."

"A War, a couple falls to the dark side, five years' seclusion, and nine months of me dragging you through Qasak… I'm game. Are you?"

"I can stay up all night to keep you talking."

The rejoinder was part sarcasm and part sincerity, "Keep me talking until you get the screws in my head tightened, okay?"

Obi-Wan's hands shot up to grip thin biceps, "You don't need any screws tightened. You need to give me a few of the arms of the crosses bearing down on you and let me help drag them. I don't care how heavy it gets, Anakin. We are soulmates and in this life together."

Anakin swooped down for another kiss and the blonde used the proximity to level their eyes, "Moreover, I demand no more of this lovemaking nonsense. I swear to you: as soon as you're ready, as soon as you trust me again, as soon as we strengthen our relationship, I will make love to you. I _will_ make love to you. _I want to_. But first, I need you to talk to me, to listen to me, to work through this with me. Let's get out of this misery together, my dear."

 _Can't you see he's lying, you cretin? He's a deceiver._

No. _You're_ a Sith-sucking deceiver.

"I didn't want him speaking, _or even thinking_ , about my Obi-Wan." He elaborated after his partner's brow arched in confusion, "That Sadizir fuck. What a _freak_. He practically followed you around with electrobinoculars!"


	16. Ten Weeks

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the encouragement and thank you if you've stuck around to read this chapter. My lot in life has not been pretty lately, and I rewrote this chapter from scratch multiple times because I was continually dissatisfied with it. There's a chance this chapter may seem aimless/irrelevant, but its primary intention is to demonstrate their developing communication (which is also why it's extremely diaolgue-oriented and possibly reads like court proceedings). In this vein of thinking, I have included quite a few past references/flashbacks, but I fear I may have overdone it. The only reason these portions survived is because I tried taking them out and it simply wasn't as cohesive. Hope it's not too monotonous! And yes, I'm somewhat reinventing Obi-Wan's past relationships/how Cerasi died. And oh, no, I couldn't help myself with the sweesonberry bread line; it was just too perfect. Oh, and yes, bang-corn- instead of popcorn- is a canonical food in the Star Wars universe. I swear!

Enjoy.

Warnings: Disturbing conversation about murder of Jedi Initiates.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Fourteen: Ten Weeks

"We could leap over a fire."

"Too hazardous."

"Break furniture against the door?"

"Too wasteful."

"Bury sun-apples?"

"Too primitive."

Anakin trundled onto his back to stare up at his blasé denier, " _Come on_ , Obi-Wan, it's the fifth rotation and we haven't done one bloody thing."

"When did you start caring for the customs of New Year Fete Week anyway?"

He tetchily leered out of the corners of his eyes, "I mean, I don't devotedly or subjectively _care_ , I just want us to, I don't know, _observe_ in some way."

"You never voluntarily _observed_ when we were still on Coruscant."

"I never had grounds to. Now I do. _We_ do. It's a perfect time in our lives to exult fresh starts." When he received a peculiar, unconvinced stare, he stormily sat up, "Never mind, then."

Obi-Wan was astounded Anakin _wanted_ to celebrate the New Year. His former pupil was never exactly fond of holidays. In the Jedi Temple, people were most prone to commit acts of camaraderie during festive times and Anakin, to say the least, was not typically extended the branch of friendship and inclusion. After leaving the Jedi Council Chamber one particular eve of New Year Fete Week, he returned to their shared quarters to inform his padawan they were about to be deployed on an ambassadorial mission to a distant planet requesting to be a member of the Galactic Republic.

-::-::-

 _Darkness enveloped him upon entry. He blindly pressed the circular button on the white, glass light panel to switch on the fluere tube lights. To his great horror, he discovered his padawan face-down on the floor in front of the couch. He sprinted across the common room. Anakin's face rested on his right cheek and his arms were straight down at his sides. Obi-Wan would have found some solace in flapping, wakeful eyes if it weren't for the gushing sparkler tears. He kneeled down and stroked a trembling shoulder, "Why are you on the floor?"_

 _"I just needed something solid to lay on."_

 _"Why are you crying?"_

 _"Because I'm pathetic."_

 _He pushed the coffee table across the magnesite chrome flooring to make room to stretch out beside Anakin. He propped up on his elbow and intently gazed down into watery, oceanic globes, "Why are you pathetic?"_

 _"Because I'm crying."_

 _"You're crying because you're pathetic and pathetic because you're crying. Something tells me we've sidestepped a critical part of the story."_

 _Anakin rolled onto his back, causing the right side of his body to press against the bottom of the mauve couch, and molded his left hand over his eyes to shield them from view, "I'm pathetic because I let those pricks get to me."_

 _The Jedi Knight didn't seek elucidation. The pricks in question were no doubt other padawan learners, as they were consistently a source of disgruntlement and social alienation for his apprentice. Every other rotation brought a new incident and he was fed up with it almost as much as Anakin was. With pique laminating his voice, he investigated, "What did they do now?"_

 _"Well, it was really only one of them."_

 _"Whom?"_

 _"I am_ not _telling you. You'll go on a righteous crusade to educate him and I feel pathetic enough without my master running around defending my virtue." Although Anakin didn't want any amount of pity, he needed to purge this Force-awful night from his hemorrhaging ego. A breath echoed between his lips, "I was leaving the training ground and this bastard approached me. He asked me if I have any plans for the first rotation of the New Year tomorrow and I said, no. Then he asked me if I wanted to go drink blush wine at the Capital Cantina in the Galactic City to celebrate early." Stray tears trickled from under the hand clasped over his eyes, "I fucking…I can't_ believe _I thought he was just trying to be nice."_

 _He transitorily bit his bottom lip, "All he did when we got there was smoke carababba tabac and talk to other people at the bar. After an hour, I stood up and he grabbed my arm. He said, where are you going? I told him I was fragging leaving, that I was wasting my time. He said- he said, come on, most people don't take you on a date before they fuck you."_

 _Obi-Wan, in all his fury, tried to interpolate, "An-"_

 _The younger Forceful, however, hastily prattled on, "And I said, date?_ Date _? I didn't know we were on a karking date! And he said, did you think I invited you here so we could become buddies or something? I turned to walk away and he said, wow, try to be nice to you and you don't even return the favor. It took every iota of restraint I had not to bash my fist through his fripping teeth… I turned back around and told him, you're all the Force-damn same and I'd rather put broken glass in my mouth and masticate than touch_ any _of you sleazeball_ liars _. I told him…"_

 _The second a throttled sob resounded, Obi-Wan edged closer to the distraught teenager's side, "He doesn't deserve your tears, Anakin."_

 _"Last year was the falderal with that low-minded senator,_ now this _."_

 _On a social basis, things worsened after he turned eighteen. A frightening number of people used his blooming maturity as a misguided rationale to debase and spread increasingly foul slander about him. Obi-Wan, sadly, could guess why. He warily admitted to himself his padawan had grown into a rather handsome young man. He also warily admitted to himself his padawan's synthesis of passion and aloofness made for an enigmatic allure. Since Anakin's compeers knew fairly nothing about his personality, as they treated him like a leper most of the time, it was unsubtle that they were fascinated by his beauty and mystique. Obi-Wan hypothetically understood attraction to Anakin, but he did_ not _understand how attraction could possibly invite mistreatment. The other students acted like emotionally-addled younglings, being mean to the one they were infatuated with._

 _He wished Anakin would reveal who behaved so immaturely and disrespectfully. He wanted to find them and give them a well-deserved tongue-lashing. It burned him to the bone this unidentified individual thought they had a right to Anakin in some way. He pried away the arm doubled over the brunette's face, "I know."_

 _Their eyes didn't catch very long through the apprehensive blinking, "I told him I would never want him. He got mad. He said, I don't want you either. He said…you're like the top slice of a loaf of sweesonberry bread. Everyone touches you, but no one wants you."_

 _Without hesitation, Obi-Wan crushed his thumb against the lower bone of Anakin's eye socket and slipped his other fingers over a sun-kissed cheek, "Don't heed some spoiled, disgusting reprobate."_

 _"That's why I'm crying. I'm frustrated_ _it- he_ got _to me! I'm pathetic!"_

 _"You're_ not _pathetic. You're human, something this imbecile did not take into consideration." He soothingly massaged the protruding bone under his thumb, "_ You _know better and nothing else matters. You can't control what others do or say, but you are in control of your own life, your own truth, and they have no power to change that unless you give them the power to do so."_

 _His heart fissured with every woundedly-whispered word, "Why does this keep happening, Obi-Wan? What is it about me that makes_ everyone- _male, female-_ everyone _treat me like this? I can ignore them, I can be exceptionally rude to them, beat them in a fight, I can be somewhat nice to them even;_ no matter what I do _, they just try to get in my pants."_

" _As a matter of course, people want what they can't have."_

 _"Yeah, well, they don't have to be such cunts about it."_

 _"No, they don't."_

 _Sapphire orbs sealed shut in timidity, "You know I don't sleep around, don't you?"_

 _Obi-Wan slanted the sheepish Force-sensitive's face towards him, "Even if you didn't spend every single day in training and every single night with me, when we aren't on a mission, I would still know such a ribald rumor was categorically untrue. I_ know _how sensitive you really are, my young padawan. You don't have the emotional disconnect to be with someone you don't respect and care about. And since I know you do not respect or care about people that make inappropriate come-on's, nearly all the other padawans and one despicable senator do not make the short list of those you would be intimate with."_

 _"Have any of the Knights or Masters said anything about it to you?"_

 _"Stop thinking about it."_

 _"So, they have."_

 _"There's been a couple mentions about it, but I promise you I put swift ends to the palavers."_

" _What did they say?"_

" _I don't want you to get caught up on that. There's only two things I want you to consider through all this: your mind and body are precious, sacred, and_ no one _has a claim to either, even if they take you on an alleged date."_

 _Anakin lost all lung function._ The only person I want to want me is you. _He grabbed ahold of the older man's arm, "I need to ask you something. It's pretty odd and you might say no and-"_

 _"Just ask."_

 _"I know I'm not an infant and I shouldn't need to be consoled like one, but I just- just, I need-"_

 _Before he could stammer out any further defense, Obi-Wan twisted the shoulder of his tunic and forcibly rolled him onto his side, pulling him into an awkwardly-angled embrace._

 _"Stop crying, now."_

-::-::-

Though he hadn't initially been convinced of the genuineness of the request to inaugurate new traditions, Obi-Wan would gladly oblige to show his partner _their_ holidays, _their_ time and life together, would never be demeaning or painful. He lugged Anakin back by the shoulder to resume their previous position, with the back of the Tatooinian's head resting on his cotton-clothed thigh, "Are you familiar with Gorsian palm reading?"

"Isn't a palm reader a security sensor that reads the imprint of your hand?"

He quietly snickered and re-laced his fingers into butterscotch brown hair, "That's a _Gallinorean_ palm reader. _Gorsian_ palm reading is a divination practice that was founded on Gorse nearly three-thousand years ago by cabalistic blood cultists. Their devotion to astrology eventually wedded their interest in fortune-telling and _voilà_ , chiromancy, or palm reading, was fashioned."

"Doesn't seem like your cup of tea."

"Believe it or not, I took a number of lessons from a palmist in Western Xufuin when I was sixteen." He smiled at the flabbergasted expression the divulgence earned and tapped on the back of his friend's flesh hand, "Do you want me to read yours?"

Anakin turned over, climbed onto his elbows, and eagerly held out his left hand, "Yes!"

The pad of Obi-Wan's fingertip mapped across the bottom left of his patron's palm to the space between the Forceful's forefinger and thumb, "You have no life line."

"I assume this means I don't really exist."

"It means you will have a short life."

"Off to a _good_ start."

The Jedi traced a vertical line running up Anakin's palm towards the base of his middle finger, "Your fate line is shallow and narrow. It indicates an extraordinary destiny in life. Since it starts at the Mount of Moon, which is this area at the bottom right of your palm, you will only attain your destiny with the assistance of a dependable helpmate."

"Wonder who that could be."

Obi-Wan smiled but otherwise overlooked the ribbing remark and outlined a stripe extending and ending under his pinky, "Your head line is straight and long with a downward branch at the end. It means you are responsive, steadfast, and have a strong analytic aptitude. Your heart line, this line above your head line, is short and broken. It means you are merciless, self-obsessed, and act capriciously without thinking about the consequences." The heart line was followed to its end just below his middle finger, "It splits at the end and curves downwards. You are…willing to sacrifice everything for love."

He wasn't sure whether or not he was being mocked, but before he could gain clarification on the matter, a feathery fingertip trailed over the short semi-circular line surrounding the base of his middle finger, "This is the Ring of Lah'mu. Not everybody has it. It indicates captivity, difficulty, frustration."

Obi-Wan fell into a silent dread as he gawked at his housemate's hand. He didn't want to disclose the Ring of Lah'mu foretold of a penchant for suicidal behavior. Even though he mentally chanted _This is antiquated hocus pocus_ , in some way he feared this abysmal prediction would come to fruition if it was said aloud. He hectically drummed under Anakin's pinky, "You, uh, have two marriage lines." His fingernail stenciled over the highest marriage line, "This first one, it goes downwards at the end..."

"Which means?"

"…Your spouse will die before you."

Anakin suspiciously squinted, "Are you roasting me?"

"No, of course not." The blonde's nail scraped slightly south, "This _second_ line has an island at the beginning, which signals the relationship with your second spouse will not go smoothly."

He lacked the intestinal fortitude to say the second marriage line was also curved downwards. Anakin could sense the qualm in the strangling silence stretching between them. His chin settled on the bend of his elbow and he goggled his soothsayer, "What?"

Obi-Wan divagated, "I was just thinking about how two marriage lines usually prophesizes two marriages." A quick glance up found airy azure eyes and a honied, content half-smile. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to their hands, pointing above the first marriage line, "Your children lines are forked at the end. It's an indication of twins."

" _Seriously_ , you can be direct; are you ad libbing?"

"No, I _swear_ that's the reading." He patted below Anakin's forefinger, "This is the Mount of Hudalla. Yours is prominent, which signifies your willpower and ambition. Your Mount of Lah'mu, here at the base of your middle finger, is prominently developed, symptomatic of your remarkable intelligence. This area under your pinky is your Mount of Drexel. It is also prominent and developed, which portends you are very instinctive and resourceful in crises."

The proclamation contracted an amused snicker, "Maybe in the springtide of my youth."

His finger slid across the space surrounded by the life line at the base of the thumb, "You have an overly developed Mount of Ezaraa. It implies you're energetic and-" _Sexy._ "-stimulating. The area between the Mounts of Hudalla and Ezaraa is your Mount of Inner Zender and it is also prominent and developed. It's a sign of bravery. This strip between the Mounts of Drexel and Moon is your Mount of Outer Zender. It's strong, indicating perseverance and fearlessness."

He rotated Anakin's hand one-hundred and eighty degrees, "Chiromancy interprets your fingers as well. You have a relatively long thumb, so you are initiative in love. Your index finger is relatively long, which tells of a fierce desire for power and control. Your middle finger is relatively short and it means you are impatient in work. Your ring finger is relatively long, which means you have a determined sense of love. You have a relatively short pinky, bespeaking your tendency to be straightforward and candid. Your ring finger is longer than your index finger. You are frequently belligerent, irritable, and weak in controlling emotions and behaviors, which can result in a lack of judgement."

"Are you _factually certain_ you're not using black magic as a smoke screen to identify character flaws you think I should resolve?"

"I'm _certain_."

"In that case, maybe those blood cultists were onto something. _I say_ we test their theorem further! Read yours."

Without even glancing at his palm, Obi-Wan recited, "My fate line is shallow and narrow like yours. My heart line is very long, which means I would rather break than bend, in general. My head line is long and curved. It implies I am accepting, realistic, considerate of others, and have strong relational skills."

"All accurate."

He slowly, hesitantly, revealed, "I have no life line."

 _It means you will have a short life._ Anakin frantically knitted their fingers together and yanked Obi-Wan's hand against his throat, " _Why_? What will happen?"

"It's a hand, love, not a scrying glass. I can't _see_ what will happen."

He did _not_ like this answer. All he could think about was the premonition constantly infesting his head like a brain crawler. _Wake up. I-I-please. Please, Obi-Wan._ Night after night, his amanica's blood stained the back of his eyelids and it killed him to not know when, where, and under what circumstances this wretched event would take place. Presently, with no information beyond the snippet of Force vision he kept seeing, what could he do to keep his soulmate safe? Should he _tell_ Obi-Wan about the vision? If he did, would it help to repave the pathways of divine decree? It didn't help or change anything when he'd told Padmé. The result was still the spirit-splicing same. He looked at the beautiful face above his and decided he couldn't beleaguer his beloved with such terror. The only thing worse than dying, he decided, was knowing you're about to die.

"My marriage line is straight and long. I will deeply love my spouse and have a happy family. I also have an island at the beginning. My children lines are, um, forked. Like yours."

His head popped up, "Really?"

Obi-Wan overturned his left hand and showcased the cloven, vertical lines at the base of his pinky. Without removing his hand from under the younger Forceful's inquisitive gaze, he tapped the areas below his fingers, "My Mount of Hudalla, Mount of Lah'mu, and Mount of Drexel are all prominent and developed like yours. My Mount of Ezaraa, however, is not as prominent as yours. Mine indicates gentleness and sentimentality. My Mount of Inner Zender is the same as yours, but my Mount of Outer Zender is stronger than yours, implying self-control and endurance."

"What about your fingers?"

"I have a relatively short thumb, signifying practicality. My forefinger is relatively shorter, so I will suffer from hardships in work. Which, you have to think... I have a relatively longer middle finger, which means I tend to get trapped in love. My ring finger is relatively shorter, signifying I'm down-to-earth and stable. My shorter pinky suggests I possess immense eloquence and observational skills."

Anakin firmly snuggled his ear against Obi-Wan's thigh and tugged the hand in his against his nose and mouth, "Do you?"

"Yes, my eloquence is unparalleled."

An entertained grin graced his lips, "You know that's not the question I'm asking."

A beaten sigh floated towards the ceiling, "Yes, I've often thought I was in love."

"Often?"

"Yes."

" _How_ often?" Obi-Wan anxiously scrubbed his forehead with the back of his unhampered hand. The visible reluctance made Anakin all the more insistent, "I promise I will not get upset or jealous."

" _Oh,_ yes, you will."

"Well, I promise to _pretend_ I'm not," Anakin brightly smiled. The incredulous stare leveled at him bred an authentic smile, "It took almost twenty years for you to tell me you loved Satine Kryze. I know it's because I'm _emotional_ , but I want you to be able to speak to me without pretense or reserve, no holds barred. We discuss my past _all the time_ and you don't get worked up. Let me repay you in kind."

"I _mistakenly thought_ I was in love with Satine."

"Duly noted. Who else have you _mistakenly_ thought you were in love with?"

A heedful minute elapsed before Obi-Wan complained, "I don't know why you have to always be so headstrong. _You know_ you're not going to like a single syllable of what I have to say."

A soft, sensual kiss grazed the intermediate phalanx of his middle finger, "I thought you said we could talk about anything."

He jerked his hand away with an aggravated groan, "Why won't you ever fight fair?"

"Fighting fair is for Master Yoda. I like to _win_."

" _No_ , you like to _torture_ me."

"I wouldn't call using your own words against you torture and even if I did, it would appear the technique is not very effective since you are stonewalling and still not acknowledging my question."

Another sigh sailed around the room, "Three."

"Three?"

"Yes, I _mistakenly thought_ I was in love with three different people."

Anakin was perfectly stunned Mister Attachment-Will-Be-The-End-Of-Civilization managed to fall in love with _three_ people, aside from himself, as opposed to the _one_ he'd always presumed. Who were the other two people Obi-Wan was referring to? How long did these relationships last? Why did they end? He didn't get to ponder any revelations long before his mouth began recklessly flapping, "You lied when you said Satine Kryze and I were the only ones you were attached to."

"No, that is counterfactual. I-"

"You-"

Obi-Wan wagged his finger reproachfully, "No, no, _I'm_ going to be the interrupter this time. When we first spoke of my attachment for you, you kept interrupting and that's why you're turned around. What I said verbatim is _...at one time I thought Satine was my only attachment. She wasn't._ I meant I wasn't attached to her _at all_. I _thought_ I was attached to her somewhere along the line, but I never veraciously was."

Still starved for a meatier rap, Anakin inspected, "Were you in orthodox relationships with Satine and these other two people?"

"I tried to be."

"What held you back?"

"Age, duty, ambition. Fear. Death. In many ways, I think I'm cursed. Everyone I love or think I love seems to be doomed... I was there with them at the end each time. I could have done something to save them, yet the only thing I did was impart valueless love to be toted into the afterlife."

He maneuvered into a sitting position and sidled as close as he could, draping his head over the Stewjonian's shoulder, "Aren't you constantly telling me we don't have the power to govern fate? It's not your fault, Obi-Wan." With any dissenting conclusions withheld, he centralized on the next most pressing issue, "So, Satine Kryze and…" The only other person he knew to have died in his old master's presence that would even be a semi-conceivable candidate was, "…please don't tell me you're talking about Master Tachi."

"Astute as always."

His fingers fisted; his teeth grinded; his toes curled into the soles of his boots. _How do you know me so well?_ His eyes were undeniably, overwhelmingly green, but he staunchly coerced himself to stick to the promise to pretend they weren't, "What made you decide you didn't love her?"

"You."

"How do you mean?"

"When I came to grips with how much I love you, I realized I never knew what love is."

Although his envy didn't subside, it lessened enough for him to be able to speak sympathetically, "Just because you didn't love them like you love me doesn't mean you didn't love them at all."

"I _cared,_ " the older Forceful resolutely maintained, "they were very good friends, but I didn't _love_ them, not romantically."

"There was a short period when I thought you felt something for Master Tachi. I was," he tensely snickered, " _so_ resentful. After a while, I began avoiding her because all I wanted to do was insult her. But I thought I was wrong about the situation when you didn't avenge her on Azure."

"I almost did. Before then, I'd never been as close to darkness as I was with my lightsaber to Magus' throat." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes when Anakin's face strenuously buried into his shoulder. "Only _you_ would get jealous over not being the one to push me off a ledge. I said _before then_. In the duration of my entire lifespan, the closest I've ever been to darkness was in this very house, hearing you scream _I hate you_ night after night."

This thoughtful extenuation made Anakin feel ghastly. Amidst his unwarranted jealousy, he pressured Obi-Wan to downgrade the pain experienced from Master Tachi's death. Why did he keep doing this? He couldn't pinpoint why he demanded typhlotic allegiance, in the past and currently, when he was unable to give the same considering his courtship with and marriage to Padmé. It was well within Obi-Wan's Force-given right to search for happiness before they got together. He sloped the side of his skull against the blonde's shoulder to stare aimlessly through the darkened room, "Don't you think it would have been better?"

"Would what have been?"

"If Master Tachi would have lived and I would have died when I was supposed to."

Obi-Wan's shoulder slumped, taking the support from Anakin's head, and he bowed towards his housemate to furiously connect their eyes, "You're going to tell me why you just said that."

Anakin reclined against the back of the couch and slathered his hands over his face, "Because it's true. I think you would have been happier with someone like Master Tachi. She was smart, mature, considerate. She-"

Obi-Wan indignantly intervened, "I wish I would have done more to protect and help Siri. I wish she was alive, make no doubt about that, but you will never, _never_ hear me say my life would be better if you were not a part of it." He urgently located remorseful cat eyes, "Do you want to tell me the _dead-level_ reason you said that?"

"I made you... _rank_ the people you love and it was _wrong_. You would never ask that of me. You would never ask me to rank my love for you, my mom, Luke, Leia, Padmé."

"Have you listened to even one word I've said? I _didn't_ love Siri, Anakin; I _thought_ I did. At the time, it felt realer than retrograde motion, but it _wasn't_. I was trying to hide- to extinguish what I felt growing towards you. I invented _false_ feelings to shield myself from my _actual_ feelings. I wasn't ready to accept I loved you with every atom of my energy and soul. I just wasn't ready."

The weak-necked nod offered only propelled him to expand, "In regards to Satine, I felt a numinous emptiness when I met her. I kept seeing- feeling like I was supposed to have a soulmate, but I was young and afraid of having that variety of commitment. I kept telling myself I didn't _want_ a soulmate. The twin soul philosophy frightened me and I decided love shouldn't feel like that. _Why would love be frightening_? When I was sent to Mandalore to guard Satine, we were in close proximity for a very long time... I knew she wasn't my soulmate, but I thought _screw soulmates_ , the vis- feeling that someone was-was _waiting for me_ was just some coincidence. For years I thought what I shared with her must be true love because I never knew relationships could intensify beyond the point we'd reached. Even though there were other, more imperative motives for which I later turned my attention to Siri, I carried this conclusion into the accord with her.

"Then I came to terms with how I felt about you and fear of commitment vanished; the desire to erase my love for you vanished. It became clear I never knew how teeth-shatteringly intense love could be or how it could unceasingly fortify. I never thought you would feel the same for me or that we would end up together, not in a million years, but in the end I didn't want to love anyone else. I didn't want to even try." He admiringly caressed Anakin's temple, "I knew I'd found the soulmate I'd waited for my whole life."

It shouldn't have been the most noteworthy takeaway; Anakin knew that. The problem was he was so angry he just couldn't bring himself to care. There were three options: Obi-Wan had solely emotional relationships with Satine Kryze and Master Tachi, he had solely physical relationships with them, or he had emotional _and_ physical relationships with them. It had just been volubly illustrated they weren't his soulmates and he'd known it all along. He'd known on some deep level he didn't love these people, but Anakin was willing to bet these relationships were not purely emotional. The only way to be sure was to flat-out ask, so the Tatooinian did, "Did you fuck them?"

Obi-Wan fretfully rubbed his eyebrow, "You _promised_ you weren't going to get jealous or upset."

" _I'm_ _not_."

His knee hove onto the couch as he warped towards the brunette in surliness, "You most certainly are. Do you think I don't know why you're asking if I had sex with Siri and Satine?"

Anakin turned his head away from his partner, "If you know the question, give me the answer."

"I thought we settled this two months ago."

His head snapped around, " _No_ , we didn't settle why you fuck people you _supposedly_ don't love but you _refuse_ to fuck me!"

"I am not refusing because I don't want to make love to you. I am refusing because you do things _like you're doing right now._ You are demonstrating you do not trust me and I can't _do that_ , Anakin."

"Well, this _is me_ ," he obstinately slapped his chest. "I get jealous! _That's_ _my personality_. If you're waiting for me to become a different person, I guess we'll _never_ have a physical relationship."

Obi-Wan raked his hands through his hair, " _Please_ don't do this."

"Do _what_?"

"Try to manipulate me into taking a step I don't think we're ready for, that _I'm_ not ready for."

"How long did you wait to fuck Master Tachi and Satine Kryze?"

He abruptly stood and traipsed away from the couch, "I'm going to bed."

Anakin promptly followed, "Would it be safe to assume the correct response is: within three months?" His chagrin spiked when Obi-Wan wordlessly turned into their bedroom. He flew through the doorway with a sardonic laugh, " _Yeah_ , I _sure_ seem like the soulmate you've waited your whole life for. _If you're a blonde broad I don't give two shits about, I'll fuck you within a couple weeks, but if you're my soulmate, I'd rather drink cyanide than lay a hand on you_!"

He pirouetted and tramped back through the bedroom door, "Satio dituit!"

It was Obi-Wan's turn to play tag as he chased Anakin into the sitting room and inhospitably swung the petulant man around by the forearm, "Why do you have to be so _difficult_?"

Anakin sneeringly smiled, "Guess I'm just sexually frustrated."

Unflinching honesty was the only way to cut through to this blue-eyed mumpsimus, thus it was given in abundance, "How can you not care _even a little bit_ about what _I_ need? Do you not care how much it _hurts me_ when you say things like you just did? Last month you told me you understood how much this is _hurting_ me, how taxing it is for me, and now you're going to stick a sonic knife in my heart because you're _jealous_? The _one time_ I open up to you about my past relationships, after you _promised_ you'd keep your head..." He released the arm in his grip and trod backwards, "I'm going to bed."

He trekked back to their bedroom, removed his belt and overtunic, and crawled into bed. He didn't expect his incensed housemate to join him for a few hours, so he was rather surprised when the mattress quaked from movement within a handful of minutes. The front of Anakin's body fused to the back of his and a sharp chin hooked over his shoulder, "I care, my Obi-Wan. I care about what you need and I care how much I hurt you." There was a brief kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder, "I love you."

Before he could field the statement, his bedmate rolled away, disconnecting their bodies. He effortlessly detected erratic breathing and knew a battle against tears had been waged. _You know I can't take it when you cry._ He flipped over to clutch Anakin's cheek, "I need you to tell me what's _really_ going on. Why is this so crucial for you? Why do you think we have to have sex to prove we love each other?"

"It has nothing to do with proving anything. I just want your lips on me and your hands on me and I don't want anything between us. I want to be vulnerable to you; I want you to be vulnerable to me. I just don't want _anything_ between us."

"Dear, there may be clothes separating our skin, but your soul is on, in, around, and smothering mine. There _isn't_ anything between us, which is probably why we can hurt each other so easily."

Anakin pressured Obi-Wan's wrist to push the man's hand impossibly tighter against his cheek, "Do you honestly have intention to sleep with me?"

"I told you ten weeks ago _I am_ _going_ to make love to you. That hasn't changed and it's not going to. I just need to know you trust me before we enter that arena, as I clarified to you before."

Obi-Wan could hear the insecure quiver in the soft response, "Okay."

Actuate the hernia in his splintering heart. _I'd rather drink cyanide than lay a hand on you_ _!_ He wanted to reassure Anakin of his vow in some way other than words. He wanted to show he had less than zero grievances with the idea of physical contact between them. _You have to go for broke._ With the utmost gentleness, he clinched the tops of black tunics and patiently waited until he was given a feeble nod of assent to peel them open one by one. He meticulously planted nectarous, close-mouthed kisses over every millimeter of his partner's collarbones. The labored breath wafting through his hair encouraged him to progressively work his way down a trim pectoral, across the breastbone to the opposite pectoral, then back towards Anakin's neck. His lips laggardly meandered up to a pink-tipped ear, "I love you so much."

Through arduous respiration, dermal conflagration, and smoky vision, Anakin somehow lucidly entreated, "Will you let me try again?"

The tip of Obi-Wan's nose ghosted across the younger Forceful's cheek, "What do you mean?"

"Who's the third?"

He reared back to administer a censuring frown, "We're not doing this, Anakin."

Mechno-fingers meshed into the back of caramel tresses, "Let me try to make this right, Obi-Wan. Please?"

It wasn't in him to deny a bid for improvement, even if the bid was foolhardy. He rested the side of his head on the center of Anakin's chest, "Her name was Cerasi. She was one of the Young leaders on Melida/Daan. The Young organization helped end the planet's bloody civil war, but it was not without casualties. She, like Satine and Siri, died in my arms."

Behind Anakin's closed eyes, he saw flashes of his expiring mother, holding her as the last gasping breath of life left her. He didn't bring it up. Obi-Wan would shift all focus to _his_ anguish and he didn't want that. He wanted them to speak freely to one another without playing affliction olympics _._ He soberly inquired, "How old were you?"

"Thirteen." Obi-Wan curtly laughed, "I suppose thirteen-year-old's aren't specially well-versed in love."

Anakin blissfully murmured, "I loved you when I was thirteen."

"Yes, well, I think we have established how _advanced_ you were in your formative years. Personally speaking, I had _no idea_ what true love was when I was thirteen. I had no idea what true love was until I admitted I love you."

"You're just saying that because you're afraid I'll get _jealous_."

"There's no worries about you _getting jealous._ You _have been_ _jealous_ since this topic was brought up."

Anakin's mechno-hand tunneled under the back of Obi-Wan's tunic, stroking his friend's upper back, "What color hair did Cerasi have?"

" _Why_ do you want to know?"

"Satine Kryze and Master Tachi were both flaxen with blue eyes. I'm just trying to establish your _type_."

"You're _ridiculous_. Cerasi had copper hair and green eyes, I'll have you know."

"Hm, I thought I would be a mold-breaker," he mumbled in faux offense.

"You are a mold-breaker," Obi-Wan grinned against bronze skin. "I think it's safe to say Satine, Cerasi, and Siri were, _you know_ , female."

Anakin lifted Obi-Wan's head by the chin and puzzled his lips against his beloved's bottom one, barely sucking. He cradled a bewhiskered jaw and lightly bit the lip ensnared between his, using his pearly teeth to playfully tug it outward before releasing it, "Is this how you want to end Fete Week?"

Despite the static buzzing around his brain and the prickling warmth enveloping his bottom lip, Obi-Wan smiled, "The blood cultists also practiced ceromancy. It's a divination practice where melted wax is poured into cold water. After the wax cools and solidifies, you're supposed to be able to read auguries in it."

"Are we going to spend the rest of the night practicing witchcraft?"

"We could. Horoscopy, ichnomancy, catoptromancy, oculomancy, astromancy; the list goes on."

"I'll air-pop some bang-corn!"

::::

Luke wigwagged a miniature, rectangular box in the air as soon as he was hauled into mismatched arms, "Look! I have Planetoid Poker Cards! I found them in Uncle Owen's sideboard!"

Obi-Wan walked over to tap the maroon spade on the white box, "That's quite the discovery. I haven't seen a deck like this in years."

The fair-haired child enthusiastically bounced his legs, "Do you know any games?"

"Why, of course!" the Jedi Master charmingly smiled. "We know _Hearts_ , _Patience_ , _Spades_ , _War_ , you name it."

"Oh, oh! Do you know how to play _Taxes_?"

His arms crossed in good humor, "Who do you think you're talking to? I was teaching your dear dad how to play _Taxes_ before you were even born."

Anakin smoothed his son's pale bangs back, "I think the more intriguing question is: who taught _you_ to play _Taxes_?"

Luke unseeingly pointed towards the entry dome of the compound, "Uncle Owen."

Obi-Wan proximately spotted the virulence springing into cerulean eyes. There was no doubt Anakin did not want another person taking up his paternal role- in any capacity- and he _especially_ didn't want that person to be Owen Lars. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to advise Anakin not to get whipped up over a meaningless game, but he was disrupted by a delighted invitation, "Will you play _Taxes_ with me?"

He peered into wide, inspirited sky-blue eyes and nodded, "Yes, I'll play."

Luke anticipatorily gazed at his father, voicelessly enquiring the same enquiry which had been submitted to Obi-Wan.

"No, I don't think so."

The Stewjonian warningly scowled. It was one thing for Anakin to be crestfallen about not having enough time with his son; it was another thing for him to refuse to interact with his son to get back at his alpha male adversary. The stern, admonitory stare aimed in his direction caused Anakin to soften his tone, though he still refused to relent, "Obi-Wan clobbers me at cards every time we play and I refuse to look like a subpar washout in front of my little cadet."

"You're dippity, Daddy."

The corner of his lips quirked, "Yes, I am."

Luke excitedly reached his hands out, repeatedly crimping his fingers until he was taken into Obi-Wan's arms. He dauntlessly poked a finger into his impending opponent's chest, "Prepare to _lose_!"

The blonde's head tossed back with maniacal laughter, "We'll _see_!"

In due time, Obi-Wan and Luke were sitting on the ground, each holding a number of cards in their hands, with Anakin stretched out beside them. Within the first five minutes of the round, it became exceedingly conspicuous the youngest player was cheating. Not wanting to wrongly accuse, Obi-Wan allowed the shifty performance to proceed long enough to rule out sheer luck. He pounced, however, after his nemesis dealt out three aces at once for the second time in a row, "How do you keep getting so many pay cards?"

"'Cause I'm the pirate king of _Taxes_ and you're not."

"R _igh_ t."

When Anakin was a youngling, he would never intentionally throw contests. He thought _letting_ younglings win at games and competitions was a poor lesson at best and he wasn't going to teach Anakin's descendant such a lesson any more than he had taught it to Anakin. Before the round ended, he nimbly grabbed Luke's stack of cards and flipped it around. Nearly all of the remaining cards _were pay cards_! He overturned his stack only to find all of his were ordinary cards. _I can't believe he tried to bottom deal me!_

Anakin rollickingly laughed as Luke covered his eyes in humiliation, " _No fair_! You used Jedi powers to see my cards!"

"It doesn't take a Jedi to notice you're cheating. The probability of having _that many_ pay cards over _and over_ is nearly impossible." Once Obi-Wan registered the persistent titters coming from beside him, he turned towards their tickled spectator, "Why are you laughing? This is-"

" _Think_ about it, Obi-Wan! If Owen Lars taught him to play the game and he _cheats at the game_ …"

Despite the mirth in his voice, he scolded, "Be quiet. I'm trying to pass on a moral here." He turned back to the blushing boy in front of him, "Did Mister Lars teach you to play like this?"

Luke nervously mumbled, "Yes."

He leaned over his crossed legs and clasped his bent knees, "Did you know it is cheating?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you knowingly try to cheat against me?"

"'Cause I can't win any other way."

He scooted across the sand and hoisted the abashed youngling into his lap. He bolstered Luke's back with one arm and slipped his other arm under short, birdlike legs, "That means you need more practice. You need to _practice, practice, practice_ at anything you want to be good or the greatest at."

"If you were a _normal_ person, you wouldn't say that."

"What do you mean I'm not _normal_?"

"You're good at _everything_."

"No, I'm not. I'm not creative or artistic like you. I can't drive podracers like Anakin. I'm not even good at negotiating like they say I am. If I was, I could convince your dad to do his own dishes."

"But you can-"

"Don't cheat to get ahead, little one. It will give a false sense of entitlement and you'll never work to be good at anything."

Anakin tried to repress his smile as he listened to Obi-Wan lecture on the immoralities of cheating. He knew he didn't discipline Luke like he should, but his soulmate always picked up where he fell short in parenting. There was an enfeebling pang between his ribcages. It still felt _wrong_ to want Obi-Wan, his children, and him to be one big, happy family. He didn't want to shame or dishonor his wife. He didn't want his children to begrudge him or Obi-Wan. In many aspects it felt _wrong_ , but at the same time, in the nethermost of his soul, it felt _natural_. It felt natural to want his family to be together. It felt natural Obi-Wan was included in his definition of family.

Teeny lips twitched from side to side, "'kay."

Anakin caringly stroked his son's back, "Don't feel bad. He gave me the same speech about four times when I was ten."

Luke's hands clapped over his entire face, muffling the admission, "I'm embarrassed."

"There's no need to be. We all make mistakes sometimes." Anakin clambered in front of Obi-Wan and hunkered down to the mortified tike's level, "Don't be embarrassed. We only want you to make smart decisions and have a healthy conscience."

Stubby arms suddenly latched onto his slender neck and he heaved the pint-sized child against his chest as he sat up, "It's only me and Obi-Wan. You don't have to be embarrassed."

Obi-Wan kindly patted Luke's back, but his hand precipitately withdrew after the cry, "I don't wanna go to _him_!"

The two Forcefuls ogled each other in concern before Anakin addressed the bundle in his arms, "Why not?"

"He thinks I'm a cheater!"

Malachite eyes raised skyward. _Shiraya's word, you are your father's son._ "Well, if you're going to be like _that_ ," Obi-Wan rocked forward to wrap his arms around both Skywalkers. He teasingly squeezed the right side of Luke's waist after the resistive squirming started, "Why are you trying to wiggle out of my hug?"

As soon as a small hand swatted at his pinching fingers, he plucked the youngling into his arms and rocketed to his feet. He slithered an arm under the back of Luke's knees, securing his free hand over top of bony kneecaps, and hung his hostage upside down. The boy burst out laughing as he swung by the knees and, despite his suspension, tried to sit up to grab his tormenter's hands, "Put me down!"

"I'm not putting you down until you're ready to give me a proper hug."

His breathless laughter persisted, "Stop!"

"What do you say, my little patas monkey?"

"'kay, _okay_! I'll _do_ _it_!"

Anakin's mechno-palm pressed against his eye as his frame shook from laughter. _Damn, sometimes I just don't care if it's wrong or right to love you as much as I do._ Even though the voice still spoke to him and Obi-Wan and he still bickered, there was no denying their relationship and Force bonds were much stouter since they'd been shifting through their horde of burdens. Every rotation, they became closer and their energies became more intertwined.

There was no way around it. He wanted to soul bond with Obi-Wan and every second their souls weren't bonded was more agonizing than the last.

It was something he'd wanted since time out of mind, ever since he first discerned the nucleus of the bonding concept at the tender age of eleven, but the desire had grown especially strong in the past couple months. One night about a month ago, he almost asked. They'd been unremittingly kissing for such a lengthy amount of time that both their lips were scarlet and neither one of them could competently respire. Obi-Wan feverishly kissed his top lip then his bottom one and crooned through bated breath _Your lips are more dangerous than mercury_. He liquefied. He started to ask, he was ready to beg, but a nagging voice told him there was probably a better chance of moving Tatooine a kiloparsec with the Force than convincing Obi-Wan to soul bond with him. He couldn't convince the man to fuck him, let alone merge souls with him.

Obi-Wan carefully lowered the giggling six-year-old onto the ground. He sat up with a huge smile as the Jedi sat down beside him. He scrambled to his feet and slung his arms around his guardian angel's neck, burrowing his face into the collar of a beige overtunic. Through the course of the hug, Obi-Wan inadvertently noticed how febrile Luke felt. He reared back and cupped a hand over the child's forehead, "Do you have a temperature?"

Anakin swiftly stood up, "A temperature?" His flesh hand looped around the back of Luke's neck, "You feel hotter than a solar prominence."

"I'm okay."

"Your face is cherry-red." To ensure a thorough and accurate assessment, his hand twisted around. When the back of his hand was warmed by his son's skin, he surmised, "You're getting overheated."

Obi-Wan apologetically commentated, "I shouldn't have held him upside down."

"No, it's fine. Luke, go inside and get some water. You need to cool off."

A dispirited Luke pouted, "But you aren't s'pposed to _be_ inside."

Since Anakin was formally verboten from entering the compound following the Salt Flat Fiasco, he rapidly resolved, "We'll go home. I want you to go and stay inside where it's cooler."

"I have to pick up Uncle Owen's cards."

Obi-Wan set Luke onto the dry earth, "Anakin and I will pick them up. Stand right here."

They gathered up the cards fairly quickly, but right after the deck was handed to the pyretic child, he unintentionally dropped it, causing the plastic playing cards to fly in each and every direction. Before he finished professing his avid apologies, the collectors deck was transfered to him for a second time. He was then given two curt hugs and sent on his merry way towards air conditioning. Obi-Wan stared at the side of the entry dome Luke rounded before regarding the man next to him, "You should tell him when-"

Anakin held up his hands in hopeless surrender, "I know."

"I know it's hard for you to scold him because you feel guilty about-"

His hands fell to his sides, "If we both know, then there's no need to state it."

Obi-Wan dotingly poked a sun-blushed cheek, "You can't be too lenient with him like I was with you."

Anakin cackled, "Fuck you! You weren't lenient! You never let me get away with _anything_ when I was a kid."

"Well, I made up for it in your adolescence."

He arrested the digit on his cheek and closed the distance between them, "You still think you're too lenient, don't you?"

Light brows shot up as though the answer was self-evident, "Yes, very much so. You have no manners or boundaries."

"A reasonable assessment."

His lips skimmed over Obi-Wan's. He pulled back but changed his mind and reconnected their mouths. Before the exchange could get too heated, a diminutive _oomph_ and odd hissing noises filled the desert air. They both panickily jolted back, unexpectant of the interruption, and glanced around for the source. At the orbicular edge of the entry dome wall, they saw a petite hand picking up scattered Planetoid Poker Cards. They barely spared each other a glance before making their way over to Luke to help him pick up the deck of cards for a third time. The father of two addressed his son, "I thought you went inside."

"I did, but I wanted to give you this." He heavily blinked when a queen of hearts card was thrust towards him. "Uncle Owen said it's special. He says it means love and I love you, so I want you to have it."

He grinned and clamped the corner of the card, not yet taking it from its giver's grasp, "Thank you, Luke, but don't you think he'll get mad if you give his belongings away?"

"You and Obi picked up a _million_ cards. He won't notice if _one_ is gone."

His smile enlivened and he fully drew the card into his hand, "I'll take it. If he gives you trouble, send him to me."

"N _o_ ," Luke's head harshly oscillated, "I'll send him to Obi."

Anakin cocked a hip, "And _why_ is that?"

"'Cause Obi can talk to him without yelling and breaking stuff."

"Oh, what _ever_!"

::::

Anakin collapsed back against the passenger's seat with his palms mashed into his eyes, "He _just_ got over being upset about what happened in the compound two months ago. He wouldn't talk to me for a year if he found out about us _like that_."

Obi-Wan tentatively rested a hand against his partner's tense shoulder as his other hand fixedly occupied the steering wheel, "I don't think you tearing apart the compound kitchen is on the same playing field as finding out you and I are in a relationship."

"I mean, no, there's no _demon eyes_ involved, but he thinks of us as best friends-"

"We are best friends."

" _Not the point_. He thinks of us as best friends, not best friends who _make out_ with each other. If he saw us kissing, it would probably freak him out. He wouldn't know the context, he wouldn't understand what's happening, and…I want to _explain_ shit to him, not have it lobbed on him in a vivid visual."

"I understand," Obi-Wan commiserated. With a sharp intake of breath, he shyly suggested, "Maybe we should tell him."

Anakin hunched forwards to prop his forearms against the dash, "I'm not ready to tell him."

"Why not?"

Obi-Wan wasn't surprised when he received no response. He already knew all the doubt stemmed from longstanding agony and dread. _I just need a little time to mentally prepare myself for all the questions he'll have. Primarily the ones he'll have about his mother._ Although he recognized the harrowing place Anakin was coming from, he still wanted to tell Luke the truth. There was a chance the naïve child may feel perplexed or betrayed at first, but if they rationalized everything appropriately, including any queries about Senator Amidala, he didn't think those feelings would be permanent.

::::

He was deftly twisting the ratcheting socket wrench into the in-hex socket on the back of the cracked glowlamp when his vision went black. He smiled brighter than the Oolex Pulsar and shook his head against the hands blanketing his eyes, "What are you doing?"

"Stand up."

He tried to bury his laughter beneath a macabre tongue, "Why do I have the feeling my head is about to be dunked in lye?"

Obi-Wan jocosely snorted, "Because you're a maniac. This isn't a Huttese torture show." He added the slightest pressure to his veiling hands, "Stand up."

Anakin blindly docked the socket wrench on the coffee table, "Can you at least give me a hint as to why you're interrupting my…my ratcheting?"

He doubled over to place his lips next to his housemate's ear, "The only hint I'll give is you'll like your surprise. Now, for the third time, stand _up_."

The Tatooinian used the Stewjonian's wrists as balances to rise. Forearms settled lightly on his shoulders, performing as guides to steer him three steps to the right then eight steps forward. He was suddenly twirled in an incomplete circle then drawn to a halt. An unreserved chortle steamed through his lips, " _Such_ a commendable try to disorient me, Obi-Wan, but I know we're facing the kitchen. _Right_ where you keep the _lye_."

He could imagine half-lidded emerald eyes staring in tedium, "You would be able to smell a large cumulation of lye."

"Unless you masked the smell with-"

"Cake?"

"No, not cake," he snootily dismissed. _Wait a second._ He yanked the wrists in his hold and the hands over his eyes fell away, " _Cake_?"

After his vision adjusted to the sunlight, he was supremely pleased to spot a fawn bunt cake patiently waiting for him on their kitchen table. He hopped forward and encased his hands around the brim of the table to bend down and evaluate what type of cake he'd been presented with. Before he was able to make a definite diagnosis, a hand fanned out over his upper back, "Thank you."

Anakin transiently forgot his prize and turned towards its baker, "Why are you thanking me?"

"It is ten weeks today since we began remodeling our relationship."

"You should _not_ be thanking me for that. I haven't exactly been a prize-winning participant in this process."

"I know you've experienced a few episodes, but that doesn't mean you haven't been _trying_. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate your efforts." Obi-Wan effervescently smiled, "I want you to know how proud of you I am."

Anakin's former master was the only person to ever vocalize those words to him. Though this wasn't the first instance, each time the honor was bestowed on him he was humbled. _The gift of your pride renders this cake worthless. Well, almost._ He spun around to give an appreciative hug, "Thank you."

The embrace was returned, "You're welcome."

"Now," he leaned back with a luminous grin, "f _or_ k."

Obi-Wan crossed the kitchen to retrieve the requested item from the sliding drawer beneath the sink. When he turned, Anakin was bouncing in place directly behind him. His eyebrows arched and his grin broadened when the fork was eagerly snatched from his hand. Anakin leapt back to the table and chopped a chunk straight off of the cake, forgoing a plate, and cheerfully crammed the bite in his mouth. Obi-Wan merely turned to get another fork and two mugs of bantha milk. Once he sat at the table, he took very little time to appreciate it was best to keep his hand out of the vicinity of the cake or risk being stabbed by wild kitchenware. He was satisfied to watch his culinary creation be enjoyed while keeping his fingers intact.

At some point, Anakin addressed him between mouthfuls, "You still make these _so_ fucking perfect."

"I'm glad you think so considering I didn't have an antigrav whisk."

He extracted another forkful of glazed sweetness, "Doesn't matter. Still tastes perfect."

Obi-Wan smiled as he teetered his unused utensil over the back of his index finger, "You've eaten almost half of this cake by yourself already."

Anakin walled his arms around the cake plate, "Is this not intended as a reward to me?"

The Jedi toothily smiled, "A harmless observation. If I'd known _this_ is what it takes to get you to eat, I would have been baking Iego angel food cakes since you first moved in."

The still-undernourished man didn't want to delve into the supersensitive subjects of his body weight or the status of his building appetite. He took a swig of his milk then swished the blue liquid around in its plastene mug before diverting, "Do you recall the last time you said you're proud of me?"

"It's a hyperspace blur, really."

" _Yeah, right_. I know you haven't forgotten my knighting."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, "I remember you kept saying it was going to _change everything_ even though I repeatedly assured you there was no reason to be nervous."

"Oh, _such_ a blur."

"Alright, perhaps not. That's not to say I _like_ to remember that rotation."

" _I_ like to. I can still see you standing by the transparisteel windows, staring out over the cityscape. I walked up beside you and you glanced out of the corner of your eye with this microscopic smile. I thought you were going to tease me about officially becoming an adult or something, but you just said _I'm proud of you._ "

He audibly exhaled, "Yes and if the rotation was made up of those few minutes alone, it'd be a memory I wouldn't mind revisiting."

Anakin's flesh hand invitingly extended towards him, "What better way to celebrate ten weeks of ameliorating and analyzing emotion than to talk about the rotation I was knighted? We've never spoken of it."

He peevishly reproved, "You have _the worst_ idea of what a celebration is."

"Come on," the younger man cooed, "reminisce with me."

"We could just eat cake."

He pushed the plate in front of him across the table, "I don't want to eat cake; I'm full. I want to talk about the rotation of my knighting."

Anakin was still composed of passionate intensity, unfaltering insistence, and argumentative propensities. He was still perpetually primed for a fight. Obi-Wan actively tried to participate in as few arguments as possible, fearful of sparking an emotional and spiritual degeneration in his soulmate, but it wasn't always easy. There were times when Anakin was compulsively hellbent on kindling a fight for one purpose or another.

The older Forceful knew discussing Anakin's knighthood could unravel into tears, a yelling match, or both, but there was no feasible finagling out of this nostalgia without making it seem like he didn't trust the progress of the last two months. _I need to show him I have faith in our evolution._ Jade eyes hitched with cobalt ones, "Your hands were shaking. For two weeks, everywhere you went, during every interaction, even during the ceremony, you held your hands behind your back so no one would notice. The morning of the ceremony came and the Council read the rites, cut off your braid, et cetera. You refused to shake anyone's hand when they tried to congratulate you. I couldn't figure out why you were still so worried. I thought _He's still the same person._ _He surely comprehends nothing has changed."_

After a moment of hesitation, Anakin mediated, "Do you remember after the ceremony? When we got back to our quarters?"

"You threw the hilt of your lightsaber by my heels. I looked back and you asked _Do you really not know what I'm upset about._ I just stared. I didn't have a clue what you were talking about. Then you stomped to your bedroom and began throwing your clothes onto the bed. I tried to grab your arm, but you shoved against my chest and said _How could you not know what I'm upset about._ I think I said something to the effect of _I'm not a telepathist_." There was a minuscule pull at the corners of Obi-Wan's lips, "You threw a roo-wood hanger at me. I ducked around it, stood upright, looked at you. Two teardrops, one from each eye, were tumbling down your cheeks. You said _You're kicking me out_."

Anakin turned sideways in his chair, "And you said _You're no longer my padawan or required to be supervised by me. You've earned your independence and it is no longer appropriate for us to live together."_

"You screamed _I don't want my own billet_. _Please don't make me leave._ "

"Then you said no other Master and Knight lived together. _It's inappropriate, it's inappropriate_ , you kept saying. Never mind no Knight and padawan lived together either. That's why I was in such a state leading up to and on the rotation of my knighting. I knew you weren't going to let me stay with you."

"I didn't have the authority to let you stay. Our living arrangement was already a highly unusual exception decided by the Council and it would have taken an interplanetary armageddon for them to decide we needed to continue living together after you were knighted."

Anakin glowered in barefaced, unimpressed irritation, "There's no reason we shouldn't have been allowed to continue living together if we both wanted to. It wasn't against the Code, it wasn't profligate, it wouldn't cause harm to anyone. It was simply against arbitrary Temple rules the Council invented."

"It was a lesson in self-sufficiency. To not become so…" Obi-Wan delayed, registering the futility of the message. Nonetheless, he finished his sentiment, "…attached."

Anakin stood and enfolded his fingers around the top horizontal bar on the back of his chair, "Then they should have _never_ fucking moved us in together to begin with. They should have just fucking kicked me out. Did you want me to move out after my knighting?"

Obi-Wan effortlessly sighted the signs of Anakin's burgeoning fury. The tone of voice, the word choice, the inability to sit still. He knew he should abandon the discussion to keep the peace, but he didn't want to open the door to erroneous inferences. Despite the leaps and bounds achieved in the last few weeks, his friend still had a knack for jumping to the wrong conclusions. Though logic demanded disengagement, he couldn't stand the thought of Anakin misconstruing his silence as a spurn. He joylessly sighed, "No. I felt so empty after you left."

"Me, too. It was another reason I couldn't stand the Council. Their imbecilic rules and the stringent social expectancies enforced-"

A small laugh absconded from the back of his throat, "You _vigorously_ and _continually_ bucked up against what the Order regarded as socially and morally acceptable. You fought with the Council and other Jedi, you disobeyed direct orders constantly, you took a wife, you fathered children. You _cannot_ pass yourself off as a helpless, persecuted victim under the Council, Code, or Order."

An umbra-esque shadow shrouded sapphirine eyes, "Their axioms and guidelines separated us, kept us apart. I hate them for it."

He slowly stressed, "Don't say things like that."

"It's what I feel. It's what I've _always felt_."

 _Separated us, kept us apart._ Something as trifling as not being allowed to live together in the Temple was an apparent devastation for Anakin. Is this how it all began? Little scraps that built up into a monster? _What parts of this monster did you use me as an excuse to construct?_ The Jedi knew he shouldn't voice the thoughts permeating his mind. They possessed the potential to turn this somewhat tense exchange into an all-out brawl. Nevertheless, he wanted the open line of communication they'd been developing to stay in working order, even if their topics of talk were not necessarily palatable. _Maybe if I keep my emotion in check, he will do the same._ _Surely our last disagreement showed him we have to approach things calmly._ His hand chafed over his mouth before he finally mustered up the courage to opine, "Then I was a more pivotal component in your descent into darkness than you have led me to believe."

He tried to convey an evenhanded tone and demeanor, but it was vastly unlikely his mortification went unheard, "How often did you blame the Council and Order for things that happened between us? Tell me, could it have amassed enough bitterness to contribute to subconscious actions against the Jedi?"

Anakin combatively slapped his flesh hand to the top of the kitchen table, "The _only_ reason I worked against the Jedi was to avert my wife's death."

Obi-Wan's voice skulked out in a dispairing whisper, "I said subconscious. I don't think you realized your resentment was playing a part in how you were behaving."

He gritted through clipped teeth, "I guess we'll never know since we can't access my subconscious."

"You're livid by the mention of it."

" _Yeah_ , by and large I get kriffing livid when people accuse me of hating the Jedi!"

Internally, Obi-Wan screamed at himself to back off. _This can only get worse from here._ Yet something else, something masochistic, deep in his pneuma compelled him to press on, to search for the hideous, petrifying truth. He needed to know what Anakin felt towards the Jedi and Sith. Could his former padawan's attitude towards the light and dark sides of the Force be attributed to his vain teachings? Did he fail to concretely define the critical differences between the two? Did he make it seem like the dark side was full of promise and rectitude?

He should have made wiser decisions. He should have been a better teacher, more observant. He knew as far back as Master Yaddle's death he should have resigned his padawan to another more suitable and knowledgeable master. Maybe he could have prevented all the suffering and treachery. Maybe Anakin wouldn't have become smitten with him. In the time since they'd admitted their feelings to one another, he never stopped to consider Anakin's age-old affinity for him most likely had created a greater susceptibility to darkness.

With all of the tear-inducing regret and proclamations of wanting to assist in the rebellion, he never dared to consider his former brother-in-arms might still harbor ill-will towards the Jedi. Did this potential hostility equate to support of the Sith? There were times he could recall in which Anakin dragged Sidious and the Sith through the mud, but were those merely impotent assertions said only to fend off scrutiny?

The real reason he needed to collect the fallen Jedi's viewpoint wasn't only because of guilt. It was because of complete and far-flung fear. If his significant other still supported the Sith… _I need it straight from his mouth. Maybe my conjectures are totally off the mark._ He took a sickening, shaky breath. _Please be off the mark._ He indicatively pointed, " _You're_ the one who said you hate them."

Anakin began pacing in the middle of the kitchen floor with wildly waving hands, "I said I hated the Council and the societal expectations the Jedi maintained, _not_ the Jedi."

Obi-Wan was no longer willing to sacrifice this dialogue to avoid an argument. _I need your heart, not guarded deflections._ He stood from his chair and harangued his mobile mate, "You loathed your fellow Initiates and padawans while growing up, you loathed the Council which were composed of Jedi, you loathed the Code which was designed by Jedi, you-"

The Tatooinian paused in his pace to pitch his hands towards his accuser, "I don't loathe you!"

The words hit like a pressure bomb, reviving a memory which never seemed particularly significant until now. _I eventually grasped the importance of being a Jedi, of being a protector, a defender, a part of something greater than myself. It was reason to remain in the Order. At least, it should have been… In all honesty, I needed to stay close to you. That's why I never left no matter how much I wanted to._ Obi-Wan couldn't believe he missed something this influentially massive… "I am an exception, not the rule. I never put _any_ thought into what a decisive role your feelings toward the Order _and me_ played in your fall to the dark side."

Anakin was aware _he_ was the one who brought up his knighthood. _He_ was the one who brought up the Order. _He_ was the one losing his temper. Although he wanted to prove to Obi-Wan he was in better control of his emotions than he was two months prior, he couldn't seem to cache his choler, "Why are you fragging _on_ about this?"

"You stayed in a place you detested with people you reviled only so you could be _close to me_ , which means _I was a requisite in your mortal destruction_."

Despite the emphatic warnings to walk away sounding off in his head, he couldn't chill the hot molten, sulfuric rage boiling inside him. At that moment, to him, the suns were dark and heaven was full of damnation. _You behaved like a good bitch for ten weeks and he repays you in indictments. He wants you to be the indefensible villain, so why don't you give him what he wants?_

Blue irises shaded a pall of pink as he stiffly glared at Obi-Wan. A snarl coiled over his lips and his voice dipped an octave, "You think _you're_ the reason? No. No, _you_ can never be blamed for what _they_ did. They mocked me, harassed me, cowered at the sight of me, tried to fuck me, oppressed me, used me as a weapon, made me think I'm worthless and insane…why _wouldn't_ I hate them? Why _wouldn't_ I want to destroy them? They separated you and me, pinned us against each other, sent us to war, spilled our blood, brainwashed us, used our minds and bodies! How can you _not_ be relieved we are _free_ of their _cult of death and enslavement_?"

Ahsoka gave warning. _…how about we start with him spouting out he's filled with so much hatred he could rip somebody's throat out and have a good laugh about it._ Obi-Wan didn't take it as seriously as it needed to be taken. Now it was boring him down, scraping at his eardrums, chomping at his aorta, ugly, unbearable, unfathomable. How long had this been snowballing inside Anakin? A little more than _thirteen_ _years_ passed from the time of his arrival at the Temple to his fall into darkness. How was Obi-Wan a good enough excuse to endure _thirteen years_ of desolation and woe?

"If you were _that_ miserable, you should have _left_. If you did, he would have never been able to… It wasn't only your vast power. He saw the hatred in you. And I…" _I can't stop until I know._ "I don't know if he still has a hold on you in some way. I thought you'd learned better, but you still don't see the dark side for what it really is. You still think the Jedi were wrong."

Anakin lowered his reddening eyes to the flextile and rigidly swallowed in an attempt to douse the flames sprouting in the hollow muscular organ of his chest. _Forget what it said to you. Don't say anything back._ In spite of this split moment of lucidity, Obi-Wan's sharply rising chest riled him. _I've upset you this much? You tell me I'm full of hatred yet_ you're _the one upset? I can make you upset._

His glowing eyes flitted back to Obi-Wan's, " _No,_ I _know_ what Sith-damn darkness is. Between the two of us, _I_ am the one who _knows_ what darkness is! I dissolved in the belly of the beast, so don't try to tell _me_ I don't know _what it is_! I know Sidious used me the same way the Jedi did! It doesn't mean two truths can't exist in the same reality! It doesn't mean the Jedi weren't as war-hungry as the Sith were! As soon as they saw an opportunity for an endless conflict, they jumped for joy and fired up their military machine! They wanted to flex their muscles and expand their influence and _they deserved to be stopped as much as he did_!"

Obi-Wan spoke without any consideration, " _You_ were war-hungry. You could never get to a battle fast enough and you killed without consideration. You never tried to de-escalate situations. Even when you were younger, before the War, you impaled crime-lords and slave raiders, you telekinetically burned Tarkin's bodyguard from the inside out, you-"

"Have _you_ ever killed anybody, Obi-Wan?" Anakin rhetorically retorted. "Did you _kill anybody_ before, during, or after the War? I think you did! We were _both_ conditioned into mindless assassins, so don't act so pious!"

" _You're_ the one acting pious. You're acting as though the Jedi-" he clenched his teeth to bite the sentence in two. _How could I even begin to say that to him?_

"Finish what you were going to say," Anakin heatedly dared. Upon no response, he decided to fill in the core-crunching spaces, " _You're acting as though the Jedi are the corrupt ones when you were warring on the side of the Sith, killing younglings_! That's what you want to say, isn't it? _Killing younglings, killings younglings_ ; it's all you can fucking consider, isn't it? Then let's consider the fact that _the Force-fucking Jedi killed more younglings_ than _I could ever dream of killing_! Break a child into a solider, kill the soldier, scare up more children, _repeat_ , _repeat_! They reveled in any excuse to abduct and indoctrinate more progeny who may one day _engender a threat to their faction_!

"Once you were in their cycle of servitude, they forced you to bow to their credo and toil as their foot soldier unless you became _too powerful_ , in which case you were promptly targeted for annihilation, _sometimes by your own friends if you were lucky_! In that world, you were the _butcher_ or the _sacrifice_ and even then, you _weren't given a choice_! Let's face it, Obi-Wan, when I killed those kids, I _delivered them from the Jedi_. They'd been walking corpses from the minute their free will was taken and _it was only going to get worse for them_."

Obi-Wan's diaphragm refused to relax and move into his chest cavity. He knew there'd been a monumental chance he wouldn't like the answers to the questions he'd posed, but he hadn't been expecting to receive the most nauseating answers available. He opened his mouth to demand if the awful words just shouted insinuated endorsement for the Sith, but his heartsick soul spoke instead, "I don't believe you. I don't believe you mean that."

Anakin's voice tremored under its own bitter vehemence, "You don't believe me because you've forgotten you entered into a relationship with a treasonous, despicable war criminal. Well, I've got bad news, _sweetheart:_ I think anyone, _anyone,_ is better off _dead_ than living as a _slave._ I was better off bleeding out on the black sands of Mustafar than continuing to be the Jedi or Sith's _blank-slate slave_! _You_ may have been content with your bondage, but _I_ wasn't! I _never_ was!

"Do you want to know why I could live in isolation for five years in the Lake Country? For the first time in my life I was _no one's_ captive! It's why I ran away from that Toydarian sleemo! It's why I fought against the Council and Code! It's why I tried to fucking choke Sidious! All I've _ever, ever_ _wanted_ was to be free and all everybody around me has _ever wanted_ was to lie to, brainwash, and enslave me!"

With this final claim, Obi-Wan finally countered, "I don't want to do any of those things. Senator Amidala never tried to do any of those things either."

"She backed away from the abyss when she saw it. In time, you will, too."

 _This has turned into a test._ In spite of the impassioned revulsion he felt towards much of what he'd just heard, Obi-Wan refused to fail Anakin. He promised they could talk about _anything_. He promised they'd conquer their misery _together_. He'd rather die than go back on those promises. He testified, "I'm not backing away because you're in a mood to press buttons."

Anakin's voice significantly quietened, "I think one day you will. One day you'll appreciate it wasn't only _you_ or _Padmé_ or _the Order_ or _power_ or my _everlasting hatred_. There's so much inborn proclivity that went into my quest for darkness, you will _never_ see the breadth of it." His fist beat against his palpitating chest, "Ten weeks means _nothing_ against a lifetime of malediction."

The Stewjonian crossed the distance between them to delicately lay a kiss over a teary, coral eye, "It means everything. It means I shouldn't take your healing for granted and I shouldn't goad you like I just did. I wanted to know your outlook on the dark side, but it seems all I've done is push you towards it. A recurrent plight for me."

A cybernetic arm wrapped around his waist, "Have you considered I _am_ the dark side?"

 _Inborn proclivity._ "No, because you aren't. You are like Abeloth, the Bringer of Chaos- an open port to the light and dark sides of the Force, attuned and powerful in both cosmic realms. You are neither realm but do have unchecked access to both. Sometimes, I wish you didn't because you lose your bearings from time to time."

Anakin's eyes tightly closed, "No, the blackness is not my dwelling, it is _me_. It's my blood. It's my tears, my bones, my breath, my words, my scars, the smell in my skin. It is _me_. We both just try to deny it."

Obi-Wan's vocal cords scratched like sandpaper, "Did I do something to cause this? _All of this_. When you were a youngling or a teenager, did I do something to make you so-so clouded and venomous?"

There was a spell of silence before the misgiving was met, "My mother told me I was an immaculately conceived child. I have no father she said, but I _do_ have a father and I've known it in the pit of soul since I could properly cognize. _The Cosmic Force_ _is my father_. And since the Force is made up of light and darkness, I was _partially conceived by the_ _dark side of the Force_. I _am_ darkness. This odium and rage were born to me."

This was the first time Anakin spoke about his father or lack thereof. The only reason Obi-Wan didn't write off what was said as dyed-in-the-wool insanity was because he still believed his old padawan was the Chosen One.

As per legend, the Cosmic Force would sire an heir, a Chosen One, by an ordinary female, passing on great cosmic ability. The only begotten heritor of the Force would go through many trials before bringing balance to his embattled father.

 _Then what if I'm wrong? What if he isn't like Abeloth?_ Since the Force was comprised of two parcels, rationally its offspring would incarnate both as well. _Has it been a part of him from the second he was conceived? Was his destiny, his trial, to turn to the dark side? Was it something that could have never been avoided? Or was his trial to rebuke the darkness when it tried to take him? Did he fail his trial?_

Obi-Wan gazed into incandescent eyes, "Even if you were given to your mother with darkness in your soul, it doesn't matter. We could have never prevented it and can never change it _._ The past two months have proven we can work to lessen the dark side's influence, so let's work with what we have. We can't get caught up in trying to change the past, dictate the future, or eradicate something we have no power to eradicate." His hand streamed down the back of Anakin's neck, "I know we have so much more to talk about, but I have faith in you and the progress we've made."

Rose and indigo-streaked eyes misted over, "I don't know how you can have any faith in me when I carry on like I just did."

"I already gave you my justification. I don't believe you meant everything you said. Not to mention, your eyes are recolored. I know the last time this happened, you told me you were utterly overwhelmed emotionally. Is that what happened a moment ago or did it say something to you?"

"Both."

His fingers dug into the base of the brunette's skull, "Did it generate the thoughts you expressed or simply influence how you expressed them?"

"I don't know. Most of it was my thoughts, some of it wasn't, and I…" He patiently waited for Anakin to take a number of meditative breaths and simmer down enough to speak. He wasn't anticipating the breakneck left turn, "Before you and Master Qui-Gon found me, I fantasized about tearing out Watto's throat. The only reason I didn't was because I feared my mother may look at me in disgust. When I was fourteen, I dreamt of dissecting Iy'steir's torso with my lightsaber. The only reason I didn't was because I feared _you_ would look at me in disgust. I thought about massacring the Council, present company excluded, on a daily basis for twelve years."

"Crashing stars, Anakin. Why have you never spoken of this? Did you think it was at all healthy to keep thoughts like these pent up in your head?"

"I haven't told you _a lot_ of things," the disgraced Jedi despondently confessed. His hand skated around the back of Obi-Wan's forearm and his face turned against the older man's inner wrist, "I want to tell you something. I've never told you before and it's- you're not going to like it."

"What is it?"

His wettened eyes closed as his lips moved against the soft skin he nuzzled, "It's equally as bad as what I did at the end of the War."

" _What is it_ , Anakin?"

After inhaling the soothing smell of sapir, eukamint, and oranges, he misplaced his backbone, "Forget I mentioned it. I can't tell you."

Obi-Wan stepped closer, "Why not?"

"I don't want to give you any more basis to distrust me."

His arms instinctively sheathed Anakin's upper and lower back, mashing their bodies together, and his nose compressed against the velvety cheek turned towards him, "Communication and candor are the most effectual instruments we can use to strengthen our trust. Tell me."

With the reassuring heat of Obi-Wan's body encompassing him, Anakin bloomed open like a poro poppy at daybreak, "A month before the Battle of Geonosis, I kept having horrible dreams about my mother dying. I know I was supposed to be guarding Padmé at the time, but when I told her about the dreams, when I told her I _had_ to go to Tatooine and rescue Mom, she insisted to come with me. It was the first time I met the Larses." He facetiously laughed, "Owen Lars didn't have a problem with me back then, though I suppose we didn't interact much. I think the stories from the end of the War is probably what made him decide he hates my guts. Anyway, I set out alone to find Mom and located her in a Tusken camp."

A pitiful noise escaped the back of his throat when he tried to speak. Crystalline tears dripped from his eyes and he rammed his face into Obi-Wan's neck, "They had tortured her. She died in my arms. So, I killed them. _Every last_ _one of them_. Young, old, innocent, guilty. It didn't matter. I told Padmé. I know I should have told you, too, but I was afraid you'd tell the Council and I'd be kicked out of the Order. Then I'd be separated from you. I couldn't bear the thought of being indefinitely separated from you."

"You're right. You should have told me."

"I know. It would have shown you what I would become and you deserved that warning. You deserved to know it's always been a part of me, growing with my rancor and fear." A sob bounced off of every wall of the room, "I should have warned you I'm a monster; an _absolutely heartless_ monster."

The perturbed Jedi lodged his cheek against the side of Anakin's head, "You are not a monster, faneta. I am sorry I got you worked up like this. Let's stop, okay? Let's stop talking about this for now. Sit down and I'll make tea."

Anakin followed his directions, releasing him and sitting in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He solemnly made his way across the kitchen and put jeru tea on to brew. He jumped when he turned to throw crumbled tea leaves in the trash, alarmed to find Anakin standing close behind him, soundlessly staring with dull eyes. After a bout of awkwardness, a leather-gloved hand lifted towards him. He instantly took the outstretched hand and was drawn into a loose hug, "Anything good inside of me only exists because of you. You are the sole moral compass I've ever listened to and if I'd listen to you more, I wouldn't keep leading us into darkness."

Obi-Wan's chin sunk into a sharp shoulder and he returned the embrace, "Do you remember the mission on Ruusan?"

"Vaguely."

"We ended up covered in mud and brackish water mosquitos while your handheld navigation computer led us in all sorts of sporadic directions. We were in that bog well into the night and you said over and over you knew where you were going, so I followed." He squeezed protruding shoulder blades, "You can lose your way and wander through the dark for eternity, and I'll keep following you." He singed a kiss against Anakin's clavicle, "Let's drink our tea then we can go to bed and meditate."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should be sorry, for egging you on."

"I deserve no excuse. I know what the Order and Council meant to you. I shouldn't have maligned them."

"I don't need you to sanitize your emotions to protect me."

"Well, did you ever think I _want_ to protect you?"

"Did you ever think I _don't want_ to be protected?"

Anakin cupped a bristly jaw to turn Obi-Wan's head towards him, "Yeah, well, I want to protect you even when you tell me not to. They were your whole life and you believed in them with all your heart. I shouldn't have said anything and I'm sorry. I will _never_ do it again."

A muted smile garnished the blonde's lips, "And I will never purposely provoke you again. Now, come on. Tea and then bed."

::::

Sometime in the night, an arm gently swathed around his chest. He didn't think much of it and tried to go back to sleep, but his attempt to rediscover slumberland was summarily squashed as lips danced against his ear, "I'm proud and thankful to be the light of your life."

He groaned, "What do you w _an_ t? You already cracked the code to the container with my credit ingots."

There was a flick to the back of his bicep, "I'm telling you shame has nothing to do with why I don't want to tell Luke about us."

He comfortingly clutched the mechanical forearm over his torso, "I know that's not the reason."

"Good," Anakin sighed in relief. He sewed a series of slow, fragile kisses against the line of Obi-Wan's neck. After his lips brushed the side of the center on the Jedi's throat, he sultrily repeated, "Good."

It started with a kiss over the carotid artery. The second he felt the palpation of Obi-Wan's pulse, his lips parted and he latched onto the skin beneath the other Forceful's jaw, right beside the windpipe. One suckle turned into three which turned into eight, continuing until an astral-eyed Obi-Wan tried to protest the ardent affection, "Jaguarete…"

A negligible nick of teeth sent shockwaves through his body and his fingertips lightly drove the amorous Tatooinian back by the forehead, "You _have_ to stop doing that."

Anakin caught the hindering hand and tugged it away from his face, immediately reattaching his mouth to the same spot as before, sucking. Obi-Wan tried to make himself roll away, but domesticating caranaks was a less difficult task. Despite anything pointing to the contrary, he wanted to touch, undress, pleasure, and worship the man he loved. Badly. He wanted to explore and experience _everything_ with Anakin, but he didn't want any of it to happen while his intended was unwell, in any sense of the word.

Admittedly, this highly notable fact fell further and further to the wayside with each little suckle to the pulse point on his neck. He didn't know what impelled Anakin to give him a hickey, but whatever the reason, it was electrifying every part of his body. His head tilted further into his pillow, willingly, cravingly giving total access to his bedmate.

A hand lovingly caressed his waist and hip as the mind-fraying suction gradually waned.

Anakin panted against the deep red mark he'd made, "I don't ever want to be apart from you."

Obi-Wan's lust-filled daze instantaneously dissipated. He swiveled onto his back to stare up at his housemate with muddled, shrinking eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you we _won't_ be apart?"

Anakin's hand slid over his bruising artwork, "I know ten weeks ago was hell and within the last twenty-four hours I haven't been an ideal companion by even the laziest standards-"

"Let's concentrate on the progress we've made, not on earlier tonight."

"I insulted the Order you were a part of since childhood. I insulted the Council you were a member of. I insulted the Code you've always abided by. I insulted your very existence without a single cautionary thought."

"You said it spoke to you. I know when it does, you express yourself in much more vitriolic ways than usual and I am perfectly capable of withstanding your amplified emotions."

Anakin nestled the side of his head into the pillow next to Obi-Wan's, "I don't want you to have to withstand them."

"You can't control-"

"My mouth? It's _very_ simple, Obi-Wan. It's called _shut up_. I need to shut up for once."

Obi-Wan twisted his head around to stare Anakin straight on, "I don't want you to shut up. I worked tirelessly to make you talk and the last thing I want is for you to _stop_ talking. Sometimes our emotions aren't pretty or polished, but that doesn't mean we should try to hide them. We don't have to agree on everything or have the same opinions as one another to express ourselves."

"I basically said I was happy to kill younglings. That goes beyond unpretty or unpolished emotion."

"You were trying to use shock to demonstrate the severity in which you oppose the Order's practices. It was unnecessary and unsettling, but I know you did it to make a point." He kissed the tip of the other man's nose, "I know how you are, Anakin. You speak in hyperbole and use the most aggressive terminology you can in an altercation. You'll say things you don't even necessarily mean or feel to get the reaction you want. I can prove you weaponize language right now. Do you think the Initiates you killed are better off dead than alive?"

The sadness in Anakin's eyes was palpable, "No, of course not. Though I would still argue their lives would have been better if they never joined the Order. But then, they would have been better off without me in their lives too, so I guess I don't really have room to talk, do I?"

"This is why I take what you say in distemper or under external influences with a grain of salt. I know how you are."

"You were _shaking_. You were _almost_ _hyperventilating_. You can't bluff like what I said didn't disturb and offend you. When you looked at me, it was like you didn't even recognize me."

Obi-Wan twisted onto his side and coasted his arm over the taller man's waist to bring their bodies closer, "I'll admit I was broken up for a minute, but once I thought about it, I absorbed why you said what you did and what you actually meant."

"You can't excuse every atrocious thing I do or say."

"I don't, but I know how much pain you must be in to hold so much rage. Although I don't accept everything you said, I do accept your pain."

Anakin grappled onto Obi-Wan's shoulder, "I don't want my pain or poor self-control to be a pretext to insult you and everything you've ever cared about."

He was caught off-guard by pleasant chuckles, "The Order and Council are not the only things I've ever cared about."

The smallest of smiles spread over his lips, "You know what I mean."

Obi-Wan's hand slid over Anakin's lower back, "I don't want you to think you have to conceal something or keep silent because you're afraid you're going to hurt my feelings. I am not weak-minded or weak-spirited and you are not going to cause any damage to me or our relationship if you are speaking the truth as you perceive it. If you choose to keep any ire or doubts locked in your head, the darkness will take root and grow. That's where the damage comes from."

"Once upon a time, the truth as I perceive it caused us to clash lightsabers."

He kissed Anakin's chin, "The circumstances are not the same _at all_. You didn't have episodes, you were _consumed_. You also were…fighting for him. Though I think your disdain for the Jedi is misplaced, you at least now share your disdain for them with Sidious."

"You're saying even if I'm not fighting on the side of the Jedi, it's okay as long as I'm not fighting on the side of the Sith either."

"That's the way I see it."

"Don't you think you're giving me an extraordinary exception you wouldn't for anyone else?"

His eyebrow arched, "Would I, as a Jedi, do harm to a neutral civilian during wartime?"

"No."

"Then no, I am not giving exception."

Anakin closed his eyes for a couple minutes, only re-opening them when lips nudged the right corner of his mouth, "It's not good enough, Obi-Wan. I don't want you to _just accept_ things the way they are. I _have_ to comport myself better."

Obi-Wan coaxed his beloved flat on the bed then melded a hand against one of the man's cheeks, "This is the most severe episode you've had in two months, Anakin. You're trying to change problematic behavior and it's expected you'll have relapses." When there was a clear effort to interject, he hurriedly tacked on, "I'm trying to change alongside you and I relapsed tonight, too. I knew you were upset or being influenced and engaged anyway. Sometimes there will be reversals in our progress, but it doesn't mean we are failing."

The brunette's flooded eyes focused on the ceiling, "This… _it's not good enough_ , Obi-Wan. If I can't treat you like you deserve, I shouldn't _be here_."

The Stewjonian swooped down to press their foreheads together, "After the fiasco at the salt flat, hour after hour passed and I couldn't find you. I thought you went off-planet. I was prepared to forage every star, satellite, and spacecraft until I found you. I didn't care how long it was going to take. Even if it took years, I would search until I found you." He deposited a quick succession of kisses to his partner's lips, "You always have the prerogative to leave, but you must know I have the prerogative to follow."

"What if I don't want you to follow?"

"Are you saying you have already predetermined you're going to leave if we have another heated conversation like tonight's?"

"That's _not_ what I meant. I just don't want to hold you prisoner in a deleterious situation."

"You seem to view our relationship through inconceivably cynical lenses, which is why you're preparing yourself for its end. That's not how I view our relationship. To me, no matter what happens we have chosen a life _together_. I have never made this choice with anyone else because you're the sole person I _love_ and am _bound to_. I will _never_ leave and the _only_ way I wouldn't fight to keep _you from leaving_ is if you shattered my heart so completely, I didn't have the physical strength to stand up."

Unexpectedly, Obi-Wan's back hit the mattress. A sizzling sensation flowered in his chest and stomach as Anakin crawled overtop of him. The feeling magnified when cybernetic knees bent on either side of his hips and an invigorating kiss enclosed his lips.

Closeness was the only thing Anakin really cared about when his silver-tongued soulmate sweet-talked him.


	17. The Other Half of My Soul

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, characters, or creation of Star Wars, nor do I make any money from it.

Author's Note: Again, thanks for any and all encouragement. I swear I'm not holding back chapters for more intrigue or something ludicrous like that. This chapter was constructed amid severe personal chaos and writer's block (both of which primarily started after Chapter 15 but seem to be slowly lifting). I apologize for the wait and hope you enjoy the chapter! By the way! I, of course, not that anybody would think I was, am not the original writer of the line "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away." Disclaim, disclaim.

Post Scriptum: Yes, I applied my own meaning to the word 'lifeline.'

P.P.S.: It appears some people don't understand that this is a fanFICTION. Do I realize Obi-Wan is indeed canonically NOT as strong as Yoda and Sidious? Yes, I do. And do we all realize that in canon Anakin and Obi-Wan are not in a romantic relationship? Do we realize Vader never became Anakin again? Do we realize that Vader in all likelihood killed Ahsoka during the rebellion? And those soul bonds! It would seem I have taken quite a few liberties with this story, wouldn't it? Great, as long as we've established all that, I sign off with a reminder that I am not George Lucas, and my fanFICTION is not totally canonical.

Warnings: (Mildly detailed) Mentions of cannibalism.

The Faithful and Ferocious

Chapter Fourteen (Part B): The Other Half of My Soul

He felt the presence tarrying behind him for some time before flesh and metal fingers snared his. Any light-minded task he'd been attending on the bedroom desk was momentarily forgotten. A stunted smile swept across his mouth and his head crooked around, though he still could not see the other man's face. Warm lips imprinted against the base of the back of his neck before cutting jaw bones burrowed into his shoulder. Comicality baked betwixt his teeth, "Are you suffering for attention, dear?"

"Not particularly. Ask me again in about three minutes."

Inflexibly anchored in their present position, he patiently waited for Anakin to exhaust of their stalemate. Over the last few weeks since the Confessional Catastrophe, their interactions were largely normal, except for a clear upsurge in physical affection. His instincts deafeningly bayed that Anakin was testing him to see if their gut-spilling war of words had dented their relationship. If he was right, and this was a test, then there was no doubt fear of abandonment was the mainspring for the change in conduct. If he was wrong, he might as well be zooming through hyperspace without a nav computer.

He couldn't deny how distressing all the heinous admittances hurled at him three and a half weeks prior were, but he was ungrudgingly serious when he declared they didn't have to have the same view as one another to express themselves. To be with Anakin was to accept pretty and unpretty truths. It was to accept light, darkness, kindness, wrath, joy, pain. It was to accept giving life and taking it. He didn't always want to, but he accepted these truths.

Even when he was blinded to the enormity of his love for the younger Forceful, there was an innate chemistry between their souls and energies which inspired nearly everything he thought or did. After approximately a decade of friendship, by the genesis of the Clone Wars, Anakin and he were so in sync, he'd often thought they somehow unintentionally soul bonded on his former padawan's nineteenth birthday.

However, according to all Force-driven lore, soul bonds did not occur organically. They were, as of fact, incredibly difficult to achieve, purposely or otherwise. If a bond was not actively sought, it was hard to allege a bond could have been made. So, while it was improbable their souls were, or had ever been, _actually_ bonded, they certainly harbored a profound nexus which was _not_ normal in Jedi domain. Though Obi-Wan never tried, dared, or wanted to notice any kind of affinity until his old padawan was an adult, Anakin obviously began feeling it at a young age. If they had been insentiently fostering some cosmic connection since they first met, the intensity it reached by the time they relocated each other on Naboo was not surprising.

Would their nexus, affinity, and connection become more concentrated if they _actually_ soul bonded? He envisaged it would. _Just as it has grown in potency with age, I'm sure taking a drastic step like soul bonding would make it intensify._ Would he ever be able to ask for something so invasive and immutable? Anakin was already a high-strung person without having _his_ feelings to ceaselessly brood over, too.

Not to mention, legend went that if two people soul bonded, their lifelines would be tied together. He was fifteen years older than Anakin. On an uninterrupted, systemic timeline, he would presumably be the first of them to die. Even though bonding souls was something he would like to do, he didn't want it at the price of Anakin's future, especially when there was a pair of precious twins who needed their father. Though no other excuses were needed to abstain from a soul bond, he was also forced to admit there was an unchartered, ruthless world inside of Anakin he may be unready to weather.

While he'd never considered its contagion could have been contracted at conception until it was alleged during the Confessional Catastrophe, he knew insatiable, wolfing darkness diseased every element of Anakin's life. If he was permitted inside his beloved's vital force, it was very thinkable he could be bitten by rapacious blackness. If they were both mislaid, who would help them find their way back to the light?

Beyond this terror prowled an even greater one: what if Anakin weaponized a soul bond?

Whenever Anakin got fit to be tied, the whole kitchen sink was thrown at you, and if you continued to aggravate him, the uranium/polonium-236 tactical demolition charge would soon follow. He not only browbeat and exploited weaknesses to coerce other people to behave the way he wanted, he also tried to manipulate events, even ones as uncontrollable as death. It was unlikely a soul bond would abolish these dictatorial proclivities.

Obi-Wan could cope with Anakin's less-than-stellar tendencies while his emotions, energy, and soul were autonomous, but if he forfeited his sovereignty, along with virtually any safeguards, he wasn't sure how he could withstand the weaponization of a soul bond. _It's not that I don't love and trust you; it's that I love and trust you so much, any kind of harm you do to me feels fatal._

::::

Anakin held his sides from laughter, "I can't believe _you_ were sentenced to AgriCorps!"

Obi-Wan's arms crossed in affront, "I wasn't _sentenced_. Nobody went to AgriCorps involuntarily." The dubious smirk lobbed in his direction spawned his own snickers, "They _didn't_! You very well know any position in any of the branches of the Service Corps was voluntary."

"I'm only saying I can't imagine _you_ agreeing to _any_ of the Service Corps, _especially_ the agricultural branch."

He reproachfully pinched the top of a cybernetic knee, "Master Qui-Gon saw my match against Bruck Chun in the Temple and thought I was too dangerous to train. I was thirteen and without a master, so my only choice was the Jedi Service Corps."

Anakin tried to suck in his smile, "Why did you choose AgriCorps? Of _all_ -"

"I said you voluntarily went or declined, _not_ that you had a choice in branch."

His hands folded over his shoulders to grip the back of the couch as his feet extended across the coffee table, "How did you gain apprenticeship with Master Qui-Gon?"

The blonde spoke with thinly-veiled smugness, "To shortly recount, his ex-padawan had a vendetta and a crime syndicate. I was the one who helped him return to Coruscant with his head."

There were few things Anakin enjoyed more than when his soulmate opened up to him about the past, as he knew such an extraordinary gift had rarely been granted to anyone else. Obi-Wan, when they resided within the Order, was generally an exceptionally genial person, open to conversation most anytime and about most anything. The only taboos in the Stewjonian's lexicon were family and past relationships. A part of Anakin believed it was just too heartbreaking. Obi-Wan was ripped away from his family as a toddler and every person he developed some strain of attachment for was slain. _Or tried to kill him and vanquish the galaxy._

Anakin didn't have much to tell regarding his past. Before Qui-Gon found him, his life was mind-anesthetizingly bleak. As far as his life post age nine, Obi-Wan _was there;_ his former master dominantly knew everything that ever happened to him. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had had twenty-four years of existing before they ever met. Even though they'd known each other for almost two decades there were still volumes about his partner's past he didn't know- unsurprising since denailing Obi-Wan would be less gruesome than wrangling passage into the Jedi Master's history. He knew it didn't help when he participated in Jealous Hysterics.

Although Obi-Wan attested there was nothing between them, it felt like his reactionary disposition may be a sinister ocean between them. And for that, he craved self-discipline. Maybe additional solitary meditation coupled with joint meditation would help him better harmonize with the Force, resulting in exacter control. _One problem._ Obi-Wan guided their meditations. What if, without the guidance he was accustomed to, he was devoured by deviltry?

All his concerns were provisionally washed away by the purifying touch of the hand gliding across the iliotibial band of his leg. A microscopic smile surfaced as his head rested against his housemate's shoulder. He didn't know what he would have to do to score full emotional regulation, but Obi-Wan was now and forever worth the undertaking. He gazed at the hand hugging his thigh with starriness, "You're wonderful. You know that, don't you?"

"Am I? Why is that?"

"You just are."

It was the fourth time in an eight-hour span Anakin courted the need to make a cloying remark.

Obi-Wan unenthusiastically acknowledged how demonstrative they became somewhere between Anakin's nineteenth and twentieth birthday. It wasn't even something he noticed until his longtime friend Bant Eerin pointed it out. _Do you realize the whole time you were talking, you kept touching Anakin's hand? And forearm. And shoulder. And upper back. And lower back._ When she asked if something was bubbling between them, he acted genuinely appalled. He dealt the indignant how-dare-you-that's-my-best-friend card and it worked magnificently. _A'ight, a'ight! Holy hypernova, Obi-Wan, it was just a question!_ Even though their affectionateness gradually increased throughout the years following the incident with Bant, he was still effortlessly able to detect how hyper-amorous Anakin was behaving as of late.

In the last few weeks, the brunette acted like it was necessary to touch him at all times. Anakin held onto him while he was cooking, while he was reading, while he was sitting, when they were in the landspeeder. The clingy Forceful even became faintly affectionate in front of Luke, usually by holding onto some part of his tunic. Even though they'd been lovey-dovey, for lack of a better term, for many moons, it was never like this. He knew when Anakin acted abnormally and the last four weeks _definitely_ fell into the category of abnormal amounts of compliments and touching.

All this overaffection was a prolix test, a lineal product of the Confessional Catastrophe. Of that, he was becoming more and more certain. However, he didn't want to tackle the dilemma head on until he certified its origin and end-goal. If he made even the smallest misstep, Anakin would take his stumble as _Stop touching me so much_. He wisely bided his time until he was able to compose a definitive dossier to work from.

::::

Obi-Wan unclipped a nearly-dry undertunic from the clothesline only to find a cheerful face floating on the other side of the fabric, " _Ah_!"

His outburst incited a plethora of cackles, "I haven't heard you shriek like that since you slipped on ice when we were fighting the gorgodons!"

He bundled the bistre undertunic in his fist and agitatedly grasped his hip, " _Yes,_ and the age of thirteen is when you should have stopped trying to lurk about, startling people! Are you _this_ bored?"

Laughter still resonated off the sand dunes when simpering lips collided with his. An arm wired around his neck and cybernetic digits cradled his cheek. He reimbursed the kiss even though his mind resided elsewhere. They just spent the last ten minutes before he came out to the clothesline swallowing each other's saliva. As it remained, he didn't mind the extra affection, he just wanted to know _why_ Anakin was so inclined to give it to him.

By bedtime some hours later, he was at his wits' end.

Anakin followed him to bed, which wasn't all that unusual.

Anakin cuddled against him, which also was not all that unusual.

Anakin began _petting_ him, which was highly unusual.

In no way whatsoever did he feel aggrieved by the affections he was being asphyxiating with, but he _knew_ there must be a reason behind it! He sat up, causing a wide-awake Tatooinian to slide off his chest onto the bed. The back of his hand grated over his lips, "Why have you been so affectionate lately?"

Anakin gently ghosted the back of his mechno-fingers up his bedmate's ribcage, "What are you talking about?"

Obi-Wan blindly seized the fondling fingers against his side, "You're doing it _right now_. You've been more affectionate than usual in the last four weeks and I want you to tell me what is bothering you."

"Why does something have to be bothering me?"

He wrenched around, pinning the prosthetic hand in his to the bed, and sternly stared into cobalt eyes, "When someone…strike that. When _you_ do anything unusually often- crying, cleaning- then something is most assuredly wrong."

Anakin's mechno-hand wrenched free, securing a position against his waist, "If it irritates you, just say so."

"Now, _how_ did I know you were going to reply with something like that?" Obi-Wan carefully clinched a mechanical wrist, "You very well know that's not what I meant. I just want to know what's upsetting you so I can help you tackle the problem."

"I love you. What other vindication is required of me?"

"So, this has nothing to do with you thinking you drove a wedge between us four weeks ago?" As soon as lashes frenziedly flapped, he knew he'd cut to the root of the matter, "I wasn't sure until you just spent the last fifteen minutes petting me like a neglected puppy, but now I am certain your escalating slushiness is a test to see if I rebuff your affections. And if I do, you'll take it as some labyrinthine evidence that your _last_ test, which was our disagreement a month ago, caused me to want to leave or end our relationship, or something like that."

Mismatched arms moodily crossed and ruby lips pouted, "This is the problem with you overly-observant Jedi."

"I _hardly_ think you can use that as a put-down. Just because you're a self-loathing Jedi doesn't mean you are not one of us."

Anakin rolled away with arms still crossed, "I _guess_ I can admit you know me relatively well."

His embarrassment evanesced under the balmy hand that adhesively molded over one of the dimples on his lower back. He wanted to be cross his motives were called into question, but all he was able to feel was respite. Respite in how his other half knew when something was amiss. Respite in how his other half cared enough to challenge and demand answers. He reached back to apprehend the sturdy hand on his back, tugging it around to his stomach. _As long as your arms are around me, I am shielded._ He wanted to surrender his clandestinity and illustrate how much Obi-Wan's protection and care meant to him, "I stole your shirt."

"I just bought you new shirts last week at the Market. Why did you take one of mine?"

"No." He clasped the hand over his stomach with both of his, "When I moved out of the billet. I stole your camel elastex shirt."

After a heartbeat of hush, Obi-Wan incredulously queried, "The one I usually trained in?"

He looked down at the battle-worn hand held against his abdomen, "When they first ordered me to move in, they were so haughty. They thought they enacted some kind of coup de grâce on my ego by relegating me to my master's chambers, always to be supervised, but I couldn't have been happier. I got away from the other padawans and I got to live with you. Every day, I got to see your face, drink tea with you, we got to make fun of the way Master Luminara snorted when she laughed."

Obi-Wan's musical mirth swirled around their bed, inspiring his smile, "I got to live with you for five years and then they took everything away from me. The closest I got to having you in my living quarters every rotation after that was your camel elastex shirt. It smelled like you and that shirt, your scent, was the only memento I was allowed. It's only been a little over twelve months since we've been living in this house, nowhere close to five years, but if I was separated from you again, one of your shirts would never be enough."

The older Forceful's hand impelled against his bare stomach to gather him closer, "I'm not leaving because you yelled at me. _Not_ _even_ because you unthinkingly insulted me."

His shoulder slid down Obi-Wan's chest, twisting until his back was level on the bed. One of his hands raised to stroke a bristly cheek, "I…I…"

"Yes?"

Who or whatever stirred up the ravenous romance between Obi-Wan and him clearly did not know just how appetent and intractable it would become. Every dopamine-saturated neurotransmitter diffusing throughout his nerve fibers was prodding him to take the plunge. _Ask him! Ask him!_ He wanted integration and to be with this seraphic man until a supermassive black hole swigged the universe. The proposal shyly quivered from his lips, "Bond with me."

The plenary meaning of the proposition was noticeably lost on Obi-Wan, as he merely teased with a resplendent grin, "Anything else?"

The hysteria spuming in Anakin's chest rose into his gullet. _He didn't understand. Should I shine a light?_ What if Obi-Wan didn't want to soul bond and found the proposal too arrogantly aggressive? Would he be able to grin and bear a slap in the face like that? The faster paranoia bombarded his mind, the sicker he felt. _He doesn't even trust you to suck his cock, sweetness. Do you really think he would trust you anywhere near his soul?_ He tried to disregard the sibilating voice, but it was _right_. His mouth clamped shut.

::::

With a yawn, he slowly and soundlessly sat up. Resonant respirations attracted his attention and he warped around to prop a forearm onto the bed next to Obi-Wan's bicep. Enough light seeped through the blue curtains hung over the windows to allow him to visually trace light eyebrows, the soft curves of alabaster cheeks, the shallow lines near pink lips. Was he wrong to back out the night before? As Ahsoka once recommended, shouldn't Obi-Wan be allowed to make his own decisions instead of Anakin making them for him?

Anakin supposed he _was_ distrustful. He couldn't even trust Obi-Wan to be sincere.

No matter what answer was given, he would end up with incertitude about sincerity. If the answer was yes, would it be due to obligation? If the answer was no, would it be due to the need to control without resorting to liaison? The tirade after the Fire Liquor Letdown echoed in his ears. _Do you think I do what I do to control you? I'd never try to control you for any reason._ After everything, he still clung to this preposterous fear. He knew better than to revert to his old ways of thinking and to forget the epiphanies he had in the Haryazina, but it was sadly an inevitability when a noxious voice yammered at him, repeating and embellishing his doubts _hour_ after _hour_ after _hour_.

While he got entangled in his own meshwork of madness, his partner was praying for him to display cognitive progress. Had he made any progress of any kind? Had he done anything at all to prove he _trusted_ Obi-Wan more than delirium and despair? More than the voice? Had he done anything at all to prove he was worthy of Obi-Wan's soul, body, and love? He hadn't proven anything.

Obi-Wan's eyelids unexpectedly pried open, only to blink at the cat eyes riveted on him, " _Why are you staring_ at me?"

The beleaguered Force-wielder tried to smile, "Am I not allowed to stare?"

"While I'm asleep and you're sitting over me like you're about to smother me with a pillow? Frankly, _no_."

His head spiritlessly shook, "I need to ask you something."

Obi-Wan tiredly swabbed his eyes, "Alright."

"Do you consider Luke and me your family?"

His eyebrows creased as he drawled with gravitas, "I know we talked about not making assumptions, but there are certain things you should know in your heart. I _told_ you after I found you on Naboo that you and Luke are my family. I consider _any_ Skywalker my family and I hope you think of me as _your_ family."

"I do. I always have."

"Good."

::::

He was in the middle of reading a political article when his holopad was confiscated from his hands. He barely fit in a disapproving glare before the holopad hijacker tossed the device onto the other end of the couch and perched on his lap. His fists crushed against his hips despite having a fully-grown male sitting on top of him, "Can I _help_ you?"

"I want to ask you something."

"You seem to want to ask me something every ten minutes anymore. You should try asking what you really mean to ask and it might save you some time."

Anakin marginally nodded, "Right, so here's what I want to ask… If you're afraid to ask something, you're afraid of what the reaction will be, what would you do?"

Obi-Wan didn't pretend to pander to the implied hypotheticality of the enquiry, "Why are you afraid of what my response will be?"

"I'm just afraid you…will try to protect me and won't tell me how you really feel."

His fingers found their way under the taller man's jaw, "I'm not going to lie to you, especially about something you so blatantly find important. Nor am I going to intentionally sabotage the therapeutic growth we've accomplished through our honesty policy. If I did either, I would not be all-inclusively protecting you."

Anakin hunched between Obi-Wan's arms to nuzzle his forehead against the older man's collarbone. An arm collared his neck. Without having to peer straight into his soulmate's eyes, he summoned the courage to murmur, "Have I caused too much retrogression in our relationship?"

"Retrogression?"

"Yeah."

 _You can't be serious._ Obi-Wan's head kinked to the side to survey as much of Anakin's face as he could, "Let's see if I understand this. You've been trying to ask me something important but keep talking yourself out of it because you're afraid our row last month caused _retrogression_ , which might cause me to lie to you to avert any similar catastrophes."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Anakin," he dejectedly sighed. "There's no retrogression. Ask me."

"I think I need-"

"No, don't think about it anymore than you already have. Look what presentiments have overburdened your mind. _Ask me_ , even if it causes us to clash."

Flesh fingers snagged his nightshirt, "Will you give me the truth? Even if you think it will hurt me?"

A mounting trepidation massed in his stomach, but he still gave the support so direly needed, "Yes."

It was the perfect opportunity to inject antidote into the misdoubt the voice was poisoning him with. Anakin couldn't work out why he was so loath to take it. _Because it's either going to trigger one of the most fulfilling milestones of my life or one of the most cataclysmic milestones of my life, and I really don't know which._ Perceiving his hesitation, Obi-Wan advised, "Anakin, just spit it out."

The sinews of his soul could not solve the problem of being a petrified, unreliable, foolish human.

"I can't."

::::

The booming squawk of a comlink awoke both of them. The darkness of the room allowed Anakin to effortlessly name his little decagon-shaped device as the disturber. He climbed out of the coverlets and to the bottom of the bed to mash the blinding, blinking green light. He wasn't the least bit surprised when an image of Ahsoka projected forth. He sleepily grumbled _Hold on_ and flipped the device the opposite way from the bed as he clumsily crawled across Obi-Wan's feet. By the time he exited the bedroom, he could already hear deep, even inhalation. His bedmate almost certainly guessed the identity of the mid-night caller and had carelessly drifted back to dreamland.

Anakin moseyed into the sitting room and collapsed onto the couch, reclining against its arm. He overturned the comlink, "Can you _really_ not keep a chronometer with Tatooine time on you or something?"

The little Forceful crossed her arms recalcitrantly, "Even if I kept track of Tatooine time, I would have _no_ _idea_ when you're awake or asleep, Insomniac General. Now stop moaning about our tried-and-true communication habits so I can boast about what I ferreted out in the Oricho sector."

Anakin sprung upright, "You went to the _Oricho_ sector?"

"Yes, and you'll never-"

"As in the sector _smack-dab beside_ the _Quelli_ sector?"

"Glad you remember your galactical geography."

The back of his hand wagged scoldingly towards her, "You went _alone_?"

She glossily beamed, "Sure did."

"Why the fuck would you do something like that?"

"You told me to mouse around, so mouse I did."

His impending roar shrunk to a whisper once he recalled Obi-Wan passed out in the next room, "I didn't mean I wanted you to go to a squatting ground for the rejects from the Quelli sector."

"You said it yourself: I went _beside_ the Quelli sector _,_ " the Togrutan coolly countered. His remonstrative stare she caught provoked a full-throated defense, " _Look_ , we were riding for more gen about Noxion and I lassoed some. And don't keep rolling with this sanctimonious _Oh, it was too dangerous_ kick because you _know_ you would have done the same, given the chance."

It took less than a millisecond to register he didn't have a countercharge. He resignedly flopped against the arm of the couch once again, "I might as well be talking to myself. Just go ahead and clue me in."

Her legs crossed onto the edge of her chair, "Well, I had to swing 'round and 'round the sector. I went to Pas'sic, to Pleida, I talked to berry wine makers in the Veronia system, I talked to Zabrak scouts in the Braxant Run. The only thing any of them knew about the Nightsisters read as follows: _They're a horde of witches_! I eventually got a bite while talking to a small group of old Pyn'gani on Polus in the Avindia system. They told me to go to a spaceport called Borgo Prime-"

"Oh, _no_ ," Anakin rolled his eyes, "please tell me you did not go to that garbage rat of an asteroid."

"First of all, I didn't _know_ it was a garbage rat asteroid until I _got_ there."

"Well, I could have told you."

"Before or after you yip at me for comm-ing you?"

"I don't get very much sleep, _okay_? So, when I _do_ go to sleep, I like to _stay_ asleep."

The irreverent titters were hardly perceptible, "Well, I _certainly_ couldn't wait on you to comm me."

"What does that mean, Miss Priss?"

" _You know_."

It took very little time for Anakin to infer that Ahsoka thought he was busy most of the time. It took even less time for him to infer whom she thought he was busy with and what they were busy doing. His eyes narrowed in pointed challenge, " _What_ _do you think_ Obi-Wan and I _do all day_?"

The space-dweller, unaware of her friend's troublesome conundrum, continued to rib, "We _all_ _know_ what you two do all day."

He anxiously bit the inside of his lip, "Well, you're wrong."

" _Right_."

"You are."

She was only shooting for a little entertainment at Anakin's expense, as that was usually hard to do without setting off some kind of Clone Wars flashback. She didn't expect or desire any boasting or gross disclosures, she just thought there would be a few laughs about a pleasant aspect of his life and then they'd move on, no harm, no foul. However, she could tell by his inflection she had hit a busted nerve. She paused to consider all the potential problems she was about to meddle into. Then she considered whether or not she should meddle at all.

A picture of Anakin sobbing painted across the canvass of her mind and she decided he needed someone to talk to about his problems or he might try to handle them with a bedsheet. Her head tilted forward, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes."

After making a mental note to finish giving her report after they intellectualized whatever was happening, she invited, "Want to tip the tea?"

There was a tick of irresolution before he deflected, "I stained the fabric of our relationship."

"You couldn't have made a vaguer statement just now."

"That's because I don't know if I should tell you. I want to, but…I don't know if I should. He might get- he would _definitely_ get upset if I told you."

"I don't want you to have bad thoughts bashing around your head with no way to let them out. If you can't talk to him about it and want to tell me, I swear I won't utter a word. You know you can trust me."

Anakin felt like his chest was swelling. He tried being candid with Obi-Wan about their nonexistent sex life and all he got was accusations and dismissals. Now that he wanted to pitch a soul bond, he was afraid he would again simply be accused and dismissed. He needed to gush to somebody, an objective psychoanalyst who would tell him the facts no matter how swinish they might be. He noiselessly confided, "He has shown no interest in _that_."

Ahsoka flinched like a punch-drunk shockboxer, "Are you serious? But he's always been so-so-so _handsy_ with you."

"Yeah, well…"

"Has he told you _why_?"

Azure eyes pivoted towards the ceiling, "He says I don't trust him enough."

"That's because you don't."

" _Excuse me_?"

She uncrossed one of her legs with a jeer, "Skyguy, how someone as smart as you can be so clueless is truly baffling. _He thinks you don't trust him enough?_ What do you think that _means_? He's saying he's afraid you will have dubieties like you do about _literally_ everything else, which would allow darkness to hop into your intimacy."

"Forget it," Anakin irately tossed the comlink onto the coffee table, temporarily forgetting about his sleeping partner.

The image of her piqued comrade pixelated as the comlink spun in place, but she was not deterred, "Uh huh, so that's _precisely_ what he told you. If he _fully explained_ his reasons, what's the riddle? Is it so hard to accept he may not be ready for-for _that_? To accept he's-"

He vaulted to reclaim the comlink, "I _said_ , forget it."

There were no waterworks, so she figured she hadn't pushed too far yet, "Everything has its time and place."

The possibility of Obi-Wan trying to control him through a platonic relationship under the guise of a romantic one could never be divulged. Ahsoka would rake him over the coals, whether it was true or not. The same went for his theory of Obi-Wan only loving his familiarity. The _one_ phobia she would find plausible was naturally detrimental to his dignity.

It was carcinoma while it was able to pollute his thoughts, but the prospect of exposing his pain, humiliation, and rejection was mortifying. He would really be more comfortable setting himself on fire. _But maybe it's time I bite the kyber. If it's with Snips, at least the man I love and deify won't hear how pathetic I am._ So, which was it? Pride or reprieve? After a little internal back and forth, his hand spanked over his eyes and he shamefacedly muttered, "He thinks I'm unattractive."

One of Ahsoka's eyes nearly squinched closed as the other one widened. The left side of her top lip hiked up and her voice scaled in pitch, "Um, _uh_ m, _what_?"

"My scars, my cybernetic attachments, m-"

"Give me _one_ , _single_ , _solitary_ example of when he has told you _anything_ like that," she vehemently petitioned.

 _So much for her finding it plausible._ "Well, I mean, he hasn't outri-"

" _L_ _et me square this._ You think Obi-Wan is snubbing you because he thinks you're unattractive, even though he is _directly telling you_ it's because he is afraid darkness will invade something he almost certainly considers, when with you, sacramental. And you wonder why he thinks you have _trust issues_? You can't just apply arbitrary explanations to his actions, especially when he has _directly told_ _you_ otherwise."

Although she felt like grade-A bantha shit to berate a close chum who was basically crumpled up on a couch with his hand masking his face, she knew he needed to hear what she had to say, "Do you not conceive that when you do stuff like this, and you do it all the time, it _definitely_ makes it seem like you don't trust him? This self-worth issue you developed after the War is making you think he is _lying_ about _something_ , thereby _definitely_ breeding distrust."

Anakin's hand fell from his face, unveiling bucketing tears, as his trembling, low-timbred voice chiseled into the conversation, "He told me about his past relationships. I told him I wouldn't get jealous, but I did. I got jealous because… _Force-dammit_ , because Satine Kryze and Master Tachi were… _gorgeous_. They were gorgeous and I'm scarred and practically limbless and… He found them attractive and that's why he slept with them. He doesn't find me attractive, so he won't sleep with me. After I added it all up, I basically accused him of being willing to sleep with anyone that wasn't me."

When he finally peeked up, he was met with a hung mouth and satellite-sized teal eyes, " _Quit_ _chucking_ _actinium_ _bombs_ like that at me! Are you trying to catapult me into an ischemic stroke? I mean, _Master Tachi_? I mean, I know they had a close friendship, but at the same time: _what_? _What_? When did this _happen_?"

Registering the dolor on Anakin's face, she tossed her head back to acutely inhale then dropped her chin wearing a serene countenance, "No, it doesn't matter. Getting back to task here, do you not see when you make assumptions of that magnitude, it makes him think you don't trust him? That you think he would lie to you? About something _very_ significant."

As the brunette tried to wipe away his accelerating tears, the renounced Jedi wistfully sighed, "Anakin, the dark side took a lot from you. One of the most injurious steals it made was of your confidence and the only way you're going to get it back is by conscientious effort. When you have thoughts like these, you to _have_ to sit yourself down and say _Self,_ _you're being irrational_. You need to ask _What evidence do I have for these thoughts_?"

"I know. It's really hard to do, but I know." Sniffles perforated the avowal, "There's something else that I...I want to ask you something because I know you won't candy-coat. I…I want to ask Obi-Wan to…soul bond with me. Do you think that would be too premature?"

" _Well_ ," she squeakily whirred, "maybe not _premature_ , but it would be _unlikely_ to happen, because, well, _you_ know, soul bonds aren't exactly _achievable_."

"You think the legend is apocryphal."

"I don't know," she sailed over the allegation, even though she unquestionably did _not_ buy into the concepts of souls and soul bonds. However, she'd battered Anakin enough for one night, as affirmed by his tears, so she opted to spare his feelings from further despondency, "I don't think the notion of it would be bad."

The back of his flesh wrist laid over his glabella, "Let's have a speculative conversation, then."

"That, I can do."

"Speculatively, if soul bonding was achievable, do you think it would be an extremely, insanely premature thing to propose, given all our complications?"

"Speculatively, no. There might be some complications you guys need to uncomplicate, but the two of you have been obsessed with each other _basically_ since the Force split dark from light. Speaking as a third-party, I think it would show him that even if you don't like or agree with all of his boundaries, you respect them and you love him just the same. No joke, he'd be rendered speechless, in a good way."

"You don't think it would be absurd since he doesn't want to take other major steps in our relationship?"

"I think Obi-Wan is much more interested in your _mind_ and _heart_ than _anything_ else. Don't you think so?"

He expressionlessly concurred, "Yeah."

Perturbed by this passionless sanction, Ahsoka investigated, "How far back does this all go? Did these insecurities about your physicality start when he spoke of his past relationships? Or did it start before that?"

His thumb squished into one eye as his index finger squished into the other, "Even when my jaundiced eye and auto-comparison weren't in the mix, I still thought he found me unattractive. Before and during the War, he never gave me any indication he was interested in me. Then, for five years, I was devoid of human interaction, of human touch. I guess I started catastrophizing and convinced myself I was going to die alone. Next thing I knew, Obi-Wan strolled back into my life, telling me he loves me. I guess I got terribly fixated on making him prove to me I was undeserving of all my insecurities and loneliness."

"All hearsay of course, but from what I understand, sex and love are not synonymous."

Anakin unveiled a hooded, unimpressed glower, "Thanks for that elucidation, _Obi-Wan_. Look, when you're in isolation for half a decade, you start to notice physical and psychological attributes about yourself you don't particularly _like_. I just- I wanted him to love all the things I felt were awful about myself, including my decrepit, disfigured body. But he keeps refusing and I…I'm not…"

Ahsoka waited, but when he never finished the sentence, she tromped on the silence, "This is where the problem sleeps. Obi-Wan does _not_ see you the way you see yourself. It probably has never crossed his mind that you may think he sees defects in you, which is probably why he hasn't consoled you about any of this." Her holographic forefinger stretched towards him, "But even if he's missed the rescue boat on this _one thing_ , he's still proven he loves you in more ways than either of us can count. Don't you think he deserves the benefit of the doubt about this _one_ _thing_? Is it so unreasonable to give him a little time to make sure you're both prepared for a gigantic evolvement in your relationship?"

His hand went limp, falling against the couch, "Have I always been this kesting _helpless_ , Snips?"

"Honestly, if you must ask, no, nay, and _never_. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, you never needed reassurance from _any_ body, not even Obi-Wan. Well, at least not to the point where it was visible to anyone who looked."

"It's draining. To perpetually be in cosmic and emotional jeopardy. I'm sure it's a pain for anyone else to deal with."

She dexterously decoded the underlining meaning of the lament, "If there is anyone you can rely on to withstand your tribulations, it's Obi-Wan."

What if Ahsoka was right? What if he was impeaching Obi-Wan's love and loyalty without reason? Should he sit back and let things advance spontaneously? Was he capable of that? There were no immediate, laser-cut resolutions. He groaned, "You're right. I know how virtuous he is and I need to remember that and get the freg over myself. Now, enough about me. Let's get back to the Nightbitch."

Enthralled by the subject swap, Ahsoka clapped her hands together, "Right! Where was I?"

"Borgo Prime."

" _Right_ , well, as you taught me long ago, don't ever try to get skinny from a gastropod sleezoid, so I didn't even try dealing with a Hutt. I spoke with Randoni traders who pointed me to a merchant named Marsnome Lozmii. Of course he _had_ to be a perversion of nature glossed in viscous slime with no concept of personal space. As soon as I mentioned the Nightsisters, he got this look on his face like he thought I was about to gore him.

"Originally, I told him a colleague of mine had been jinxed by a Nightsister named Noxtalia and asked if he knew anything about her. He stared at me for a while before he slunk up in my area and _sniffed_ me. He told me he could _smell_ I was lying. So, I tried to fish-story slightly closer to the truth and said I was a cloak-and-dagger Jedi, trying to snoop on the Dark Lord's strong-arm, who was a Nightsister."

The Tatooinian's palms fretfully slid over his eyes and forehead, "That was dangerous."

"I know, but it served. He sniffed me, backed up and told me to go to the planet Lysatra."

"In Wild Space?"

"That's the one. There was a small population of humanoids living in the eastern hemisphere apparently, but according to this merchant, there was a lone inhabitant of the western hemisphere, in a jungle called Zo'bani. He told me they would have plenty of edifying morsels for me to nosh on, but he didn't tell me the person's name or anything. All he disclosed was they lived in the dead center of the jungle, inside of a permanently-docked standard scout ship." An ever-expanding smile spanned her face, "I went there and you'll _never_ guess who my dark space-horse was."

He whined, "Don't make me guess, Ahsoka. I'm _tired_."

"It was Asajj Ventress."

Shock and fury dressed his stare before he gracelessly squirmed into a sitting position. His mouth formed silent words before he finally demanded, " _How_? We watched her drop off during the Battle of Boz Pity. Obi-Wan called for her corpse to be put on a med runner. _How_ can she be alive?"

"Is _We watched her drop off_ code for _I killed her_? If so, then the correct rebuttal is _You didn't kill her enough._ She healed herself with the dark side of the Force and directed the pilots of the med runner to take her as far away from the War as they could. She accessed another ship and flew around Wild Space until she found a place to hermit."

"Good," Anakin dangerously whispered, "she should stay there so I don't have to scorch her sensory nerves out for trying to kill Obi-Wan."

"Yes, you may imagine you are not her favorite person either. _Neither_ of us is. At first, she told me to piss off. She didn't try to fight me, she just told me to leave. Which is fair; I did bring her trouble when she wasn't asking for it in the Coruscant Underworld. So, I made it glassy I was just questing for knowledge. Of course, I didn't tell her the info was for _you_. I just told her I'm trying to obliterate the Big Nasty."

"You couldn't resist telling everyone your primary directive, could you?"

She shrugged, "Why not? Anyway, you would have been downside-up. She's back on the path of lighthood and wants the Sith to be incinerated! I can tell by the look on your face you don't buy it, but I do."

"How can we be sure anything she told you is the truth?"

"How could Obi-Wan and I trust you weren't a dark side double agent when we found you in Theed? There was no way to be put-your-life-on-it-sure, but we trusted our judgement and it led us to the right conclusion. I trust my gut about Ventress. Do you trust my gut?"

Suspecting her sixth sense was for suckers, "Yes."

"Well, from the calmness I felt in her energy to the tears in her eyes, I trust her." After receiving a hesitant nod, she digressed, "In case you've forgotten, she did not grow up on Dathomir, though she was born there. She only went back after the Battle of Sullust. That's when she met Noxion, or Noxtalia should I say, since that was her name at the time."

"And what did she say about _Noxtalia_?"

"It's not a good-looking story, let me tell you. Let's rewind. We all know the interdiction imposed by the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars kept the Nightsisters confined to Dathomir. We further know that amidst the interdiction, one of the clan mothers tried to blow up Coruscant. Plot foiled, clan mother killed, the shaman Talzin came into power and united all the competing clans of Dathomir into a singularity. Now, this is the part you'll want to pay attention to in case you've forgotten: Talzin made the clan into a pack of mercenaries to auction off members as assassins and bodyguards to off-world bidders."

" _Let me guess_ ," Anakin tilted his face sideways in calculation, "Noxtalia was one of the Nightsisters sold."

"Ding, ding, ding! And instead of resenting Talzin for selling her and her people off for tender-"

Ahsoka and Anakin sung together, "She blames the Jedi's interdiction."

Both Force-wielders laughed under their breath before the she jested, "How did you _know_?"

"Because it's such a deluded subterfuge. Speaking as a reformed villain, I can confirm that villains are almost always ranting and raving at the wrong people."

"As long as you _know_ you were misdirecting blame. At any rate, it would seem the Jedi are also on her hate list for the mass extinction on Dathomir years later. But before we get into that, I have to tell you what Ventress told me about Noxion's stripes. They aren't genetic or tinctures. Apparently, all Nightsisters and Brothers would choose one or multiple tattoos to announce their permanent allegiance to the clan. Noxtalia came of age to participate in this ritual right as she was put up for auction. She chose stripes... _all_ over her body. And these tattoos they got, it wasn't with a pansy radiation tattoo gun. It was _metal tube technique_ tattoos. In other words, a hollowed-out, brass tube houses a smaller, thinner metal rod with an extremely sharp tip, which slides down the brass tube repeatedly through pressure, like a jack hammer." Ahsoka scooted to the edge of her chair and waved a hand in front of her torso, " _All over her body_."

"I wonder what stripes signify to her."

"Ventress mentioned stripes are a common Dathomiri symbol for outcasts." Ahsoka's closed fist pressed underneath her chin, "I would feel bad for Noxion if she wasn't such a cutthroat fiend."

"For resenting the Jedi?"

" _You_ resent the Jedi and I don't think you're a fiend." She stood from her chair to pace around the cabin of her corvette, "It's pretty blinking grisly when you get down to it. Dathomir had an arena called the Crucible, where the Selection for the Nightbrothers took place. Now, the Selection was technically for the Nightbrothers, but the same three trials from it were used to determine if a Nightsister had reached warrior status. There were three types of warrior: shadow killer, hunter, or just plain-old warrior. Want to guess which one our striped sis was?"

A deep exhale emitted from his lips, "I'll raise a thousand on warrior."

"You're a thousand credits richer. Ventress said Noxion is a Dathomirian hybrid. Half human, half Zabrak Nightbrother. A good comparison, even though he was a transformed warrior and she isn't, is Savage Opress. Vortex pools of fun, right?"

"Fucking Dathomir," his fingers rubbed tiny circles into the end of his left eyebrow. "It always has to be fucking Dathomir."

Her unoccupied hand leapt with the movements of her strides, "I suspect a shortage in dissemination of intelligence is the culprit. I don't think Noxion knows the essential extinction of her people was thanks to Sidious ordering Dooku to order General Grievous to attack the Nightsister Fortress. _Or_ , maybe she _does_ know and actively tried to be Sidious' apprentice so it would be easier to kill him."

"The glaring problem with that scheme is Sidious doesn't trust Nightsisters, Nightbrothers, or Dathomiri witches. It's why, as you told me not too long ago, he's reinstated the interdiction the Jedi once imposed against them. I'm sure he has an incessant surveillance on her emotions and intentions. I'm even surer he will cross her out once her role has been played, whatever that is. He would see her as a liability after a certain amount of time."

"But why would he recruit her if he reviled her?"

"Probably for the same reason he recruited me: so he wouldn't have to fight her himself. If he saw some great potential in her he probably knew he could use her to some ends, but he _will_ ensure the security of his power no matter what it takes, which means he'll kill her at the first sign of dissidence. Which might be sooner than we think considering Nightsisters find malelings inferior. She probably resents serving under him." He crookedly grinned, "I figure misandry isn't the reason you called her a fiend though."

Ahsoka returned to her seat, feet bouncing against the floor, "The first trial of Selection was called the Test of Fury. Noxtalia's performance during her test earned her a ghastly reputation. She not only killed her Nightbrother opponents, she, without _anybody_ thinking to intervene, _dissected them_ with a ballistic knife, ate most of their major organs, and used her bare hands to drink their blood. She claimed their blood and organs contained their Living Forces. _I eat males and live on gods_ is what she opined to Ventress _._ Isn't that _crazy_?"

"I've heard stranger."

"What's _stranger_ is she refused to eat anything _ever_ again after her Test of Fury. She didn't want to taint the puissant energy she'd consumed."

"If she never ate _anything at all_ ," he rationally refuted, "she'd snuff it."

" _Not quite_ ," stressed the Shilian. "Ventress said there's a magick invocation Noxtalia could have used to eliminate hunger. It went something like _Winged Goddess about, Winged Goddess without, eradicate my appetite, to my weakness cast out, let the blood of my enemies strengthen my constancy, as I mightily will it, so mote it be._ Apparently the spell required a sacrifice and the Nightbrothers were, well, sacrifice material."

"Well, isn't she subversive and mythmaking?"

"You know a little about that, right?"

"Maybe." He drowsily stretched his arms above his head, "I have to hand it to you, Snips, you're one hell of a sleuth."

"Learned from the best."

Anakin tried not to let the satisfaction the compliment gave him show, "I'm going to get back to bed. Thanks for mousing about."

"Easier to obtain than a stabilizing ring." Her farewell was interposed by a last recommendation, "Oh, and Anakin? Don't be afraid to show Obi-Wan how much you love him just because he is reticent about _one_ facet of your relationship. That man would build paradise for you."

"I know. I'll talk to you later."

"Catch you in the chaos."

::::

"Are you not coming to bed?"

Anakin glanced towards the bedroom door, scarcely able to distinguish Obi-Wan's figure in the lightlessness of the house, "I'll be there in a little while."

Obi-Wan traversed the sitting room to double over the backrest of the couch and wrap both arms around his neck. The side of the man's face sloped against the side of his head, "I don't like you doing this."

"Sitting on the couch?"

Lips tickled the helix of his ear, "Sitting in a darkened room, getting wound up in your thoughts."

His face leaned against his partner's mouth, "Well, I can't power down my central nervous system, so you may as well go to bed."

Obi-Wan buzzed against his temple, "I bet I know what you're thinking."

"Oh, do you?"

The contact on his neck and temple evaporated. A silhouette at the far end of the couch entered his line of sight. Soon enough, Obi-Wan was kneeling at his feet, clinging to his bended knees, "You can't hide from our bonds, Anakin. If the disquiet I felt from you tonight has anything to do with your behavior over the past few weeks, then I would presume you are trying to anatomize how I feel after our battle royal."

What could he say? The bull's eye, as per usual. While he struggled to find a way to minimize the assertion, Obi-Wan proclaimed, "In your everyday life, you aren't particularly skilled at acting like you're somebody else. It's not like you hoodwinked me into this. _I_ pursued _you_ for a relationship, you may recall. I battled with you in the kitchen that rotation because in spite of everything, I love you. I've loved you for a _long_ time. I loved you before you fell into darkness and I loved you even when I thought you had ceased to exist. I loved you when you moved into this house and I still love you even when you get out of hand and shout things you really shouldn't. And no matter what you think, I volunteer for _everything_ loving you entails, even if it hurts."

The hands on his knees streamed up the outsides of his thighs, "I need you to know it doesn't always hurt. Not even close. When I see your smile or feel your lips on mine, when I touch your energy, and when I catch you talking to sand, it doesn't hurt. I know we collide so much we create synestias, but I don't _ever_ want you to think I wish we were different. The relationship-building we've committed to here is not because I wish _we_ or _you_ were different. It's because you sit in dim rooms late into the night mulling over horrible contingencies that drag you down into darkness."

Obi-Wan tentatively clutched his hips, "It's because I want you to be and feel _safe_ , _healthy_ , and _happy._ "

Maybe there was a possibility of deception. Maybe the protection of their relationship was at stake. Maybe they still sustained critical trust issues. Maybe Obi-Wan was too good for him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There were limitless maybe's, but one abiding, cast-iron certainty was the love he felt for Obi-Wan. _And you deserve to know how much you and your soul mean to me._ A burning desperation enkindled in his stomach. There was no time for timidity as it pedaled through the cavity of his chest then rose up his esophagus and past his teeth, "Bond with me."

"Again? We bonded before I went to bed."

It was now or never. He either stuck his neck out and trusted Obi-Wan with his soul or he shriveled into his shell, forever afraid and distrustful.

"You and I…we were originally made as one being. Then we were torn asunder, sentenced to roam the world separately. It was cold and lonesome and there was fraudulent hope that only led to worse heartache, but we found each other again; _twice_ we found each other again. Now we have to put ourselves back together. I need you to bond with me so we can be one, whole, as we once were and were always meant to be."

Obi-Wan's perplexed, contemplative expression instigated a gravelly illumination, "Not our Living Forces. Our- our souls. Will you bond your soul to mine?"

The clock went haywire.

Ataxia commandeered their bodies.

Their past, their squabbles, their afflictions- Obi-Wan couldn't remember _any_ of it. He couldn't remember having just told himself rotations before he couldn't risk a soul bond. Tears accumulated in his eyes; breaths became labored; thundering fireworks detonated in his stomach. He couldn't remember what planet they were on or what his own name was. His heart was about to capsize and his veins were on the verge of rupture.

… _bond with me so we can be one, whole, as we once were and were always meant to be._ How many years had he pined for completion?

… _so we can be one, whole…_ How was he supposed to deny the other half of his soul completion?

The silent, weepy eyes boring into his made Anakin anticipate the worst. For a short-lived moment, he teetered towards recanting and playing the proposal off as a prank, but Ahsoka's wisdom whizzed through his head and he rationally talked himself down. _No. You asked, now stand by it. If he shoots me down, it's his choice. I just need to hear him say it. I don't need to speculate; I need to hear him say it._ Despite his jitters, he humorously, sanguinely prompted, "Is that a _yes_?"

Obi-Wan's nearly imperceptible voice shivered, "Yes." His hands frantically framed the sides of his housemate's neck. The next affirmation was scarcely louder than the last, "Yes."

Anakin breathlessly caught the other man's forearms and clarified with astonishment, "Yes?"

Once he was awarded a nod, he wrested the neckline of Obi-Wan's nightshirt, dragging his intended between his knees. His hand snarled in caramel hair as he dove in to lace their lips. _I can't believe you said yes._ Famished for as much contact as possible, he licked the lips interlocked with his. Their tongues began a sultry, enchanted waltz, lasting until he pushed the tongue against his back and lightly sucked on the older Forceful's bottom lip. The tip of his tongue grazed the slippery flesh he held hostage. When he tried to retreat shortly after, the hands on his face refused, holding their mouths close. They joyously breathed each other's air.

He could live like this for the rest of his life. He knew he could.

:-:-:

" _No," Anakin feebly denied, his forehead pressing against the side of Obi-Wan's angled head. "I did it because you're the one that deserves a better soulmate."_

:-:-:

Obi-Wan sprung upright in bed, urgently heaving.

Before he was fifteen years old, he never experienced visions from the Force. Starting from the night of his fifteenth birthday, however, he began seeing both notable and trivial things about an unidentified blue-eyed boy. The foretokens were never extravagantly detailed. It was usually only a bursting flash of a scene, a few spoken words, an onset of emotion. A wailing newborn, a scraped knee, bronze skin, a blue-green lake, disappointment, pain, longing. When Qui-Gon brought Anakin to the Royal Starship that momentous rotation on Tatooine, he instantaneously recognized the boy as the one from his visions. He didn't say anything. It would have sounded too disturbingly daft.

Eventually, after he became Anakin's master, he surmised the visions to be some sort of cosmic groundwork. The Force knew whom his padawan was going to be and for whatever reason- perhaps to prepare him- he'd been given access to the youngling's past, present, and future.

He admittedly was rather bitter that through all the visions he played witness to, he hadn't been given _any_ warning whatsoever as to the bane which would in the end befall Anakin. There'd only been a single vision, looking back, that could have served as a harbinger of what was to come. About a year after the War began, he dreamt of untamed fire encompassing toffee hair and golden eyes. The malice in the furious ordinance _I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan_ struck a crippling chill into his hypothalamus _._ He couldn't see the person the command was aimed at, but he could taste the hatred. The vision lodged a dread into his breast and he carried the feeling around for months.

After the sapping terror dwindled, he confessed what he saw and felt to the same person that had interpreted his visions since Qui-Gon passed. Master Yoda would always remind him the future was in perpetual motion and the content of Force visions was only _possible_ , not absolute. _T_ _he future is not fixed but fluid…_ Despite Master Yoda's erudition with this Unifying Force trait, the tiny green Jedi was unable to determine why his visions invariably orbited around Anakin.

"Obi-Wan?"

He tried to speak evenly through operose pants, "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

Cybernetic fingers lazily pirouetted up his backbone, "Everything alright?"

He laid back down with a counterfeit smile, "Yes."

The end of Anakin's index mechno-finger brushed along the bridge of his nose, "What's worrying you, amanica?"

A slight dip of the head allowed him to kiss a cybernetic thumb, "Rotten night terror, that's all."

"What about?"

He considered eschewing the inquiry but quickly reconsidered. He would want Anakin to be plain-spoken if the shoe was on the other foot. His cheek slanted into a mechanical hand, "About you. You were upset."

Oblivious his former master had ever even once received a Force vision, Anakin hearteningly comforted, "It was just a nightmare."

Obi-Wan grabbed the brunette's wrist and drew it across his torso. Anakin's face settled on his chest and his arm slinked around a petite waist. They reposed in their moonlit sanctuary, relishing their closeness, but it didn't alleviate his grief. He sighed and vised a hand over his eyes. The next thing he knew, the mattress quaked and the white coverlets draped over his body were removed. His hand snapped back in order to gape at his mischievous companion, "What are you doing?"

The younger man sat crossed-legged below his feet, "Helping you relax so you can get back to sleep."

Anakin's mechno-hand slithered under the older man's heel. His flesh hand tenderly rotated the captive foot in a circular motion, causing a pop of cartilage.

Obi-Wan thought that was going to be the extent of Anakin's ministrations and was about to express his gratitude when two thumbs forcefully drilled into the center of his foot's arch. _Tidal Force._ Mismatched digits rubbed in small circles, one going clockwise, the other going counterclockwise. His molars gritted in an effort to imprison the moan begging to break loose. _Contain yourself._ Anakin was trying to be considerate and soothing, not seductive. Little loops were impressed just beneath each of his toes and into the ball of his foot. His masseuse then gradually massaged all the way down his sole, adding stouter pressure near the heel.

Anakin glanced up to find crammed-shut eyes and suctioned-in lips. He decided not to make mention of it, "Curl your toes."

As soon as Obi-Wan followed the instruction, a miniature depression just below the ball of his foot became visible. The pad of Anakin's thumb kneaded the pressure point, with his mechno-thumb flattening over the back of the flesh one to add harsher compression. He heard a gagged groan but didn't gamble on his sanity by observing his significant other's face. His thumbs eventually trailed about a third of the way down the plantar aspect, jamming into the base of the big toe. This galvanized a carnal, unrestrained moan, "Uha."

The concupiscence in the sound made his hormones go berserk. He rapidly, recurrently reminded himself he was doing this to relax Obi-Wan, not to turn himself on. With strained restraint, he attentively repeated the process just performed on his friend's other foot.

Somewhere between his left and right foot, Obi-Wan seemed to lose whatever reserve was preventing him from being vocal.

As his task neared its end, Anakin, after listening to all the wanton moans and groans his hands spurred, was harder than lonsdaleite. He resettled Obi-Wan's foot against the bed and scuttled towards the headboard. He fleetingly kissed a bearded jaw then flopped onto the mattress, facing away from his bedmate.

 _Never_ , in almost _twenty_ _years_ , had he heard Obi-Wan produce even _a semblance_ of the enraptured, melodious noises just made. It was lunacy-letting. All he could think about was flinging himself into Obi-Wan's arms, clawing their clothes off, puzzling their hands together, and riding the Jedi until all the hydrogen burned out of the suns' cores. Simultaneously, he knew such scandalous behavior was beyond the pale. _I have to sit tight until he makes a move. It's the only way I can be sure I'm not cornering him. It's the only way I can be sure he wants it, too._ He attempted to forget the pounding throbs in his groin as he softly bid, "Goodnight."

Obi-Wan's eyes longingly outlined Anakin's bare-skinned spine. Upon reaching the waistband of black sleep pants, he couldn't remember why he _ever_ opposed a physical relationship between them. There was no prudent, practical argument to be made amid his lust-rich state. All he could think was _Why shouldn't we?_ They loved each other and wanted to give each other pleasure. What was the controversy? All he would have to do is state he wanted to screw. That's _all_ _it would take_. They wouldn't even get all their clothes off before he'd roll Anakin face-first into the bed and make love to his soon-to-be bondmate from behind, their bodies enmeshed with his face buried between protruding shoulder blades.

Overpowering. Anakin needed this. Unignorable. He needed this. Clamorous. They needed this.

Impulsively, stupidly, selfishly, he jerked the Tatooinian's face towards him and sloppily soldered their lips.

Anakin nearly convulsed when a hand ambled down his hip and locked onto his thigh, wheeling him onto his back.

Their lips broke apart and their eyes voraciously linked.

Obi-Wan hoisted one of his long legs up by the knee to make room to shift on top of him. Emerald and sapphire eyes dilated when the two Forcefuls felt one another's arousal. Their mouths ardently reattached in an open-mouthed kiss.

His flesh fingers tightly coiled in sandy tresses as lips branded his cheek. Obi-Wan planted a few kisses on and below his earlobe before descending. As fast as he felt the lightest touch of tongue on his neck, he _lost it_. _Force fuck it! As far as I'm concerned, you made the first move, Kenobi._ His hands frenetically fought with the bottom of Obi-Wan's nightshirt until they found a way underneath. Seconds after his fingertips sunk into the lats of Obi-Wan's bare back, the blonde's profile ironed against his neck. Cavernous breaths bumped his skin and a pale hand rested against his shoulder, as if pushing him away. It took him a moment to comprehend Obi-Wan was trying to end the encounter. He squeezed the hair gnarled around his fingers, " _Please_ don't stop."

Obi-Wan mentally castrated himself. How could he have initiated this when he knew they wouldn't be able to finish it? The aroma of oil and sea salt flooded his nose and he knew why. _Because you are a phoenix and I desire you more than self-actualization._ It wasn't a decent enough excuse. He knew how much Anakin wanted to take this step in their relationship and he was, in essence, taunting. His head lifted to find oceanic orbs twinkling with tears. Wasn't this what he promised? That they would make love when they could no longer stand to be apart? It seemed like they were to that point just instants before, but even in a mode of sensual euphoria, he still couldn't get past his apprehensions.

There was a small part of him that couldn't shake off gilded eyes on magma-sodden shores, that couldn't disremember the imploration _Please love me_ as fingers wrung his forearms. He would even go so far as to say he _feared_ Anakin's susceptibility to darkness. He knew it wasn't entirely the fallen Jedi's choice to be influenced, but that didn't detract from the dark side's ability to contaminate. To physically become one with the love of his life would be a consecrated, ensorcelled, spiritual event, but chancing contamination was not worth the reward.

He was speaking out of both sides of his mouth by agreeing to a soul bond while still refusing a physical one. However, when the soul bond was proposed, his emotional self, not his logical self, responded. Emotionally, he swooned at the thought of bonding souls with Anakin; logically, he knew a soul bond would be just as prone to corruption and exploitation as a physical bond. Within hours after the proposal, after he simmered down and his logic reemerged, he couldn't deny having second thoughts. Soberly speaking though, he already made the commitment, and whenever he imagined what the reaction would be if he tried to rescind… There was no way in burning Stalbringion hell he would be able to live with himself if he tortured Anakin like that. It had been bad enough to see the agony on Anakin's face moments before when he teased a sexual relationship. For him to tease a _soul bond_? _Why don't you just carve out his beating heart?_

Ultimately, he was buckled into this course of action. No matter how adverse and petrified he was, there was no way to bail without mangling the man he loved. So, he might as well make the most of his predicament.

Throughout the years, he tried numerous times to reach into Anakin's feelings, but the many erratic, conflicting emotions constantly feuding inside his old apprentice made dismantlement and interpretation impossible. How Sidious shifted through all of it and got anything from it other than a headache, he'd never know. While the full effects of a soul bond were unknown, it was within reason to assume they would become more connected than they were currently. It might allow him to obtain a tangible substantiation of trust and better monitor their prospective bonds. He arrested slender biceps, "We have to."

The rejection felt like kick in the incisors, but Anakin knew if he made an uproar it would only make things more insurmountable. Even though it hurt to feel undesirable and unwanted, it hurt more for Obi-Wan to find him untrustworthy, "Okay."

Assuming he was unwelcomed to stay in their suggestive position, Obi-Wan climbed onto all fours to separate their bodies, "I'm sorry."

Quavering hands encased his shoulders, "Will you at least stay close to me?"

He thankfully sighed, "Of course, love."

::::

Anakin's head poked around the doorframe, making him appear bodiless, "Are you ready?"

Obi-Wan spoke over his shoulder as he deposited the last clean dish to its cabinet, "Yes."

It was a blustery evening. A number of gust fronts swept in over the Jundland Wastes, periodically whipping up rolling sandstorms throughout the day. As night approached and temperatures nose-dived, the fifteen-meter-high sandstorms slackened, though the wind was still at play. Every once in a while, they'd hear creaks and groans from the walls and roof as gales whisked by.

He was hair-splittingly nervous. For two rotations, he worried about the dark side annexing their soul bond, about a weaponization of their soul bond, about causing his partner emotive tension. But as the ritual loomed closer, all he could think about was Luke and Leia and how he was possibly about to rob years from their father. Five had already been stolen from his beloved. How was he any better than the dark side if he did this? Was there any way to back out without tearing Anakin apart? With neurasthenia, he made his way towards their bedroom. Despite his conflict, he smiled when he found his intended sitting on the edge of their bed, bouncing, "I'm so ex _cited_!"

"I can tell."

Even though he spoke with merriment, something in his face, voice, or movements must have given away his uneasiness.

Anakin's feet firmly stamped onto the floor. He took a good, hard, grim glance at the Stewjonian and the plasma in his blood putrefied, "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan cautiously selected his words, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

" _I_ asked _you_!"

"I know, I know. I just want to make positive this is what you want."

Anakin stood up and marched across the bedroom. He grabbed a battle-worn hand and lugged it to the left side of his chest, "Do you feel that? My heart has been racing since this morning because I knew I got to soul bond with you tonight. This is _positively_ what I want." It didn't take an air traffic controller to notice Obi-Wan's antsy, face-rubbing, foot-shifting mannerisms. A tightness girded his throat, "Are you sure this is what _you_ want?"

Though he truly did desire this kind of connection between them, Obi-Wan was still bogged down by fear of darkness, of destruction, of depriving his soulmate, of hiding ulterior motives. He was afraid to suggest he wanted to postpone, to suggest they'd most likely be ready to soul bond at the same time they'd become ready for a physical bond. None of that mattered against the torment on Anakin's face while waiting for his response. _I cannot and will not hurt you like this._ A quasi truth slipped out, "I'm just…I'm fifteen years older than you."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If the legend of the soul bond turns out to be accurate, our lifelines will be bound."

"I know," the younger Force-user nasally bellowed, "that's what I want."

"You could lose years of your life."

His hands corkscrewed into the tunic over Obi-Wan's stomach, "Or you could lose years of yours. Either one of us could go at any given moment, bonded or not. So, if we're both going to die anyway, we might as well live the life we want as long as we are able."

"What about the twins?"

Anakin flexed an ice-thawing smile, "The twins would want their father and guardian angel to be happy."

"If I take you from them-"

He tugged their bodies together, "I could drop dead from a ruptured aneurysm in ten seconds from now and if I did, it would be much easier for my children to digest if they knew I found _some_ measure of contentment inside a life of misery. Even if my death comes sooner than it should because I am bonded to you, I _know_ they would find comfort in that."

Obi-Wan tipped their foreheads together, "You vowed you would never leave them again."

"I don't want to as long as I'm _alive_ , but one day death will come without consent and take me away from them."

"Yes, but if we don't bond, you could stay with your children even after I pass."

Anakin stepped away with a face full of woebegone devastation, "Are you trying to grub-weasel out of bonding with me?"

Acetone amassed in Obi-Wan's atria. _I knew how much pain it would cause you._ He corralled the taller man closer by the shoulders, "No, I am onl-"

The Tatooinian knocked his hands away and shoved his chest, "Why didn't you say _no_ if you didn't want to bond souls with me?"

"Anakin," he braced bony elbows. When another flailing retreat was attempted, he yanked the brunette into a skintight hug, "Anakin, darling, I'm not trying to get out of anything. I want to bond with you; I'm not trying to back out. I'm just worried. I just want to take care of you and the twins, that's all."

"Why haven't you mentioned how worried you are?"

He smiled in spite of the situation, "I thought you may take it the wrong way."

After little deliberation, Anakin ducked back to find beryl eyes, "I'm sorry. It's- I couldn't believe you said yes when I proposed and I thought, just now, I thought you realized you made a mistake."

Obi-Wan's arms constricted in their embrace. It would be ideal to put this whole thing off until Anakin was more stable, but it was obvious if he tried to delay, it would butcher a vascular organ or two. _Cosmic Force, I beg of you to keep the darkness far remote. Do not let it invade our bond._ His nose buried into honey hair, "My soul could never be complete without yours."

A soft, reassured sigh wafted over his shoulder and thin arms enfolded his waist, "Fuck, I can't participate in the ritual like this. I'm too worked up."

The appropriate cure was administered swiftly. His eyes closed as he embarked upon a meditative state. Fronds of his energy nudged Anakin's, whose in turn unfurled and hysterically grappled for his. As soon as their energies tethered, the mass in his arms melted. He propped Anakin's boneless body against his and swanned them to the bed, helping the younger Forceful sit on its periphery. He stooped at cybernetic feet, "Any better?"

"Much." Anakin's fingers combed through the grey hair along the older man's temple, "Thank you."

A kiss touched down on a prosthetic palm, "Are you ready then?"

"Yes."

"If you start to feel weak or anything in the middle of it, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"Yes, I will," he solemnly guaranteed.

"Let's get to work then."

He lent a hand to help Obi-Wan stand then boosted his legs onto the mattress and crawled to its middle. Obi-Wan stretched out beside him and his head plunked down onto his bedmate's pectoral. An arm swathed around his back and he consequently bandaged an arm over his housemate's abdomen. He sensed the solicitude in the suggestion, "If anything goes wrong, you need to-"

"How many hours in the past three rotations have we spent exploring our energies? Each other's energies? Our thoughts, feelings, our spirits? We've got this, amanica."

"We don't even know what we're doing. Our ritual is concocted on a legend."

"We've verbally walked through the ritual a million times. It will be fine."

Strong fingers puzzled with his before their eyes closed and they pursued a meditative state.

:-:-:

There were two walls of light, one turquoise and one candy red. The contrasting Living Forces faced each other with intentness. Slender scions shot out from the turquoise and candy red walls, caressing and knotting. The turquoise scion pulled the candy red one towards its mother Force and through its barrier. Deep within the turquoise was a small, warm tangerine light. The candy red scion swam into the small orb of light before receding, extracting a piece of tangerine. The candy red scion dragged the piece through turquoise, back to its mother Force, and into a small, warm chartreuse light.

The piece of tangerine was engulfed and instantly began to fuse with the chartreuse light.

The turquoise scion hesitated, causing the candy red scion to find, latch onto, and pull the turquoise one past the barrier of its mother Force. The turquoise scion was enticed to the orb of chartreuse light buried deep within the candy red wall. The turquoise scion gently extracted a piece of chartreuse and towed it through candy red and turquoise to bury it in tangerine.

The piece of chartreuse was engulfed and instantly began to fuse with the tangerine light.

Tranquility met passion. Wisdom met danger. Love met sex. Patience met determination. Spiritual grounding met raw power.

The tangerine in the chartreuse reached out for the turquoise and the chartreuse in the tangerine reached out for the candy red, trying to recover what had been lost. However, tangerine and chartreuse were already bonded behind both walls of energy. Despite these bonds, the pieces of extracted tangerine and chartreuse still fought greatly to reunite with their mother souls. Turquoise crashed into candy red, knitting together, as the tangerine in the chartreuse extended an arm to its original tangerine master and the chartreuse in the tangerine extended an arm to its original chartreuse master.

Living Force bonded to Living Force.

Soul bonded to soul.

:-:-:

For two sunrises and two sunsets, Anakin and Obi-Wan laid unconscious in their bed.

Sometime before the third sunrise, Obi-Wan awoke. His eyes were weighty with exhaustion and his mouth felt like it was full of plasti-foil. Something was on his torso and his left arm was numb. It took a couple minutes for his eyes to adjust to the tenebrous room, but once his vision was no longer obscured, he discerned Anakin and he were still in the same position they had been in before the ritual commenced. His hand smeared around his waxy face before he groomed sheeny butterscotch brown locks back to inspect the other man's face. One of his fingertips skimmed over a sharp cheekbone.

He felt a punch to his stomach, then throat, then forehead. Energy, both native and foreign, gormandized his bones, his lungs, his muscles, his eyeballs. Breathing became ragged; thinking became inexecutable. Even though their meditative bonds conjoined portions of their Living Forces, he _never_ felt like this: ready to run a marathon and capture light in a box and spit in Palpatine's face. If this was only a portion of how Anakin felt on a daily basis, how did the man ever stay cooped up in this house?

As quickly as the feelings assaulted him, they fled. He expected another onslaught, but it never came. The suns were burning bright in the morning sky by the time he decided the throe had been temporary. He then decided to try to trundle Anakin onto the other side of the bed since he couldn't feel his arm. As soon as he tried to, his bondmate awoke. Bleary eyes thrashed against the after-effects of sleep and tan arms stretched towards the ceiling. His arm snaked free under an embowed back and he began patting it to try to stimulate his axons again, "How are you feeling?"

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, the far wall, his hands, and then back to Obi-Wan, "The same. I feel the same. Do you feel any different?"

"For a while after I awoke, yes. I don't feel so different now though."

"I don't feel different," he restlessly insisted.

Obi-Wan consolingly resolved, "Perhaps it is not supposed to feel disruptive."

"Maybe," he mumbled, "or maybe it didn't work."

A light eyebrow cambered, "You know the legend."

Anakin's hands spooned around the sides of his neck while he manically chattered, "I just think you would _feel something_. Significant. I don't think it worked. I think we would feel at least _somewhat_ different."

Obi-Wan didn't need a consensus to know their energies and souls were bonded. When their Living Forces met during meditation, his partner's rampant emotions usually overpowered his. That was _exactly_ what was happening: as Anakin ranted, he felt panicked. Since they weren't in the middle of meditation, he deduced it was possible- probable- their Living Forces permanently bonded as a result of the ritual. Their soul bond was detectable by the hot, silky blossom seeded in the center of his chest. It was new, distinctive. He wasn't sure why Anakin either didn't feel or didn't notice feeling different, but just as they learned how to forge Force bonds, he was sure he could figure out how to reach Anakin's soul with his. When he did, he could prove to Anakin the ritual was a success.

::::

Obi-Wan strutted across the bluff with his hands secured behind his back.

Although Anakin didn't believe their ritual had been successful, all he felt from his bondmate for the past two rotations was abiding love and cheerfulness. _L_ _ike he's satisfied I tried to bond with him at all._ It made him feel like a real jackass. The contrition plaguing him for distorting his motives in pursuance of a soul bond was chomping at him like a Tarsarian devourer. He wanted to do something to show he entrusted Anakin with his life, even if he was daunted by certain components of their relationship. His tribute would be a pathetic compensation, but he couldn't think of any better way to make reparation unless he just put everything in the open, which he of course couldn't.

Anakin was hanging their freshly-washed clothes out to dry but suspended the task to skeptically smile at Obi-Wan, "Why are you holding your arms like that? Do you have a canister of oil or sand behind your back?"

With hands still hidden, he sauntered straight up to Anakin, "No, I'm not a disrespectful teenager."

A laugh accompanied the jaunty warning, "I'd be careful with those insults if I were you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It sounds like you enjoy kissing disrespectful teenagers."

His head sportively shook, "You're a hellion. I'm not playing a practical joke. I have something I want to give you. I'm sick of holding it above your head like you're incapable of having it."

The muddle on Anakin's face multiplied when the hilt of a lightsaber was presented. With little examination, he recognized the metallic helve as his own. He glimpsed at Obi-Wan then back down to his long-lost saber. Had he earned the right to repossess this bringer of carnage? _It doesn't feel like I have._ His hand rose then recoiled, "I know I've asked for it, to use it, in the past year, but after the past few months, I figure I'm not capable of having it. I still fall under its influence-"

"You know the way of the Jedi, Anakin. You may have strayed, but that doesn't mean you can't return to it." Obi-Wan scooped up the disgraced general's flesh hand and guided it to the lightsaber. He manually fastened mechno-fingers around silver metal, "Take it."

Anakin withdrew his hand and stepped back, "I strayed a little too far, I think. I'm not sure I can ever be roundly trusted with it again."

Ignominy washed over Obi-Wan and he knew the emotion was extrinsic. Again, he nabbed Anakin's hand, placing it on the lightsaber hilt, "I trust you with it."

The dishonored Jedi's head contritely bowed, "You didn't see all the atrocities I committed with it. If you did, you wouldn't trust me with it."

The pads of his middle, index, and ring fingers slid under a dimpled chin, raising the taller man's face, "I went with Master Yoda to the central security station to change the recall signal, to warn the surviving Jedi to stay away from Coruscant. I saw the security recordings. I saw what you did."

Horrification saturated Anakin's soul. He feebly drew the lightsaber to his chest, "Y-you _saw_ what I did in the Temple?"

Obi-Wan braced a mechanical wrist, "I couldn't watch all of it; I had to shut it off. Then Master Yoda declared we must destroy the Sith and I told him to send me to Sidious. I told him I wouldn't, _couldn't_ , kill you. He claimed I wasn't strong enough to engage Palpatine and that I must go after you. Rather, what the dark side contorted you into."

"You were strong enough to beat Sidious."

"I wasn't. Our power in the Force was very close, but just like Master Yoda, he had a slight advantage."

"You were strong enough," the dishonored Jedi confidently asserted.

"Then why did Master Yoda insist I wasn't?"

"Maybe somewhere deep down, he hoped you could get through to me."

Obi-Wan never entertained the possibility, but Master Yoda did pick up on the romance between Anakin and Senator Amidala. Maybe the Grand Master Jedi sensed the not-so-brotherly love Anakin and he had for each other as well. But if that was the case, why hadn't termination of both relationships been ordered? Was it because they never acted on it? Or did Master Yoda know something they didn't? He conceded, "If that was his plan, it wasn't a particularly good one. Any part of you I could have appealed to had already succumbed to the grave.

"When I found you, you were unrecognizable. Physically the same, except for the eyes, but you didn't act like yourself. You…acted like you despised me. Your anger was something I was used to, but not your hatred, at least, not hatred directed at me. Then you pointed your lightsaber at me and the air turned to smoke. I knew what I had to do. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to." An alien feeling of abject anguish strangulated him. After he resumed regular respiration, he pointed to the lethal weapon against his bondmate's chest, "You slashed _this_ lightsaber at my throat and I am _still_ saying to you that _I trust you_ with it."

Faster than the speed of sound, anguish was replaced by humbleness which was followed by desolation.

Anakin lowered the lightsaber to his hip and gloomily gazed into green orbs. _He claimed…that I must go after you._ Characteristically, he capered over the core part of what Obi-Wan said, "Did Padmé invite you onto that ship?"

Obi-Wan seemed surprised by the query but riposted nonetheless, "No."

"How'd you know she would lead you to me? You didn't know about our marriage…"

"When I told Master Yoda I didn't know where you would be, he told me to search my feelings. Once I did, I knew Senator Amidala was how I'd find you."

Anakin nearly dropped his lightsaber, "So, you put together we were in a relationship before I fell?"

"Yes."

"You didn't say anything."

"Yes, I did."

"Your Small Degree Speech made it sound like you only thought I had a crush on her."

"No, _you're_ the one that tried to make it sound like you only had a crush on her."

"Then you _knew_ I was the father of the twins," Anakin underscored. When silence pervaded the room, he repeated, "And you didn't say anything."

Obi-Wan stage-whispered, "To you."

"You said something to _her_?"

"I asked her if you were the father. She didn't answer, as expected."

The brunette lightly jostled the blonde's shoulder, "You are so _nosey_!"

"To be _fair_ ," Obi-Wan detained his partner's assailing hand, "I didn't ask to gab. I asked because… well, never mind. It's immaterial."

Anakin entwined their hands, "You asked her because the father of her children fell to the dark side and you wanted to give your condolences." He swiveled their hands until his was underneath Obi-Wan's and brought the back of the older man's hand to his lips, "It's fine. At least by you prying into my private life and stalking my wife you ended up with her during delivery. At least she wasn't alone."

He admiringly smiled, "Maybe that's why Luke loves you so much. You're one of the first faces he ever saw. Which means you have another Skywalker on Alderaan that loves you as much as Luke and I do."

Obi-Wan trod closer to truss his free arm around Anakin's neck, "I don't know how much more Skywalker I can take."

Their lips met in a short-lived, loving kiss. The younger Forceful stole one more peck before holding his lightsaber aloft, "Let's start practicing with them again."

"I swear, if your next sentence includes the words _rebellion_ or _Sith_ -"

"I'm not trying to run away or fight anybody. I want you to help me harmonize with the Force other than through meditation. If we meditate and practice with our lightsabers again, I'd have you there to guide me and it would be double the contact with the Force."

Obi-Wan prolongedly assessed oceanic eyes. When he only found rosiness, he assented, "Slowly. We'll start slowly. Just turn it on and see how it feels. I'll finish hanging the laundry."

Anakin's thumb painstakingly hovered over the activation stud of the lightsaber. He kept reminding himself Obi-Wan was less than a few steps away from him. _He's here if you need him._ _You can do this._ He swallowed heavily and slammed his thumb against the button. With a hiss, a beam of neon blue sprouted forth. Frightful eyes inspected every inch of the glowing stick with a trancelike awe. _Well, it doesn't look like the galaxy's ending so far._ He mindlessly strolled around while still holding the blue blade at arm's length, closely inspecting it.

When he got the courage to cartwheel the saber, he noted there was still a lack of fire and brimstone raining down on his head. He twirled the lightsaber another time as he turned towards the clothesline.

Even though he was a couple of meters from Obi-Wan, his vantage point made it look like his soulmate was against the cusp of his lightsaber.

 _This is the end for you, my master. His mechno-hand clenched Obi-Wan's throat. Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil! Their lightsabers hit. Your anger and lust for power has already done that. The lightsaber got closer and closer to Obi-Wan's face. Their Force-flushed hands got closer and closer to one another. A fountain of magma erupting. I see through the lies of the Jedi. Their lightsabers hit. Obi-Wan's face dripped with sweat. Well, then you are lost!_

The lightsaber disengaged as it plummeted into sweltering sand. His eyes shut, he hyperventilated, his hands thrust into the center of his stomach. He felt hands rattling his shoulders and heard terror-stricken beseechingness, "Anakin! What happened? What happened?"

His screams cracked under gasping sobs, "Don't let me _touch it_! _Don't let me touch it_!"

Hands enclosed the sides of his head, " _Anakin_ , what happened?"

" _Don't let me touch it_!"

"Did it speak to you? Did you hurt yourself?"

"I'm going to hurt _you_!"

Arms giftwrapped around him, pulling him against a solid torso, "No, you're not. It's a flashback, Anakin."

"I don't want to _hurt you_!"

Out of nowhere, a warmth grew in his chest and metastasized to his head and limbs. His tears dried up and his body felt like it was floating on cool water. He wilted into the arms around him.

"That's it, faneta, breathe. You'll be alright. Let's leave it alone today, okay? We'll gradually acclimate to it. Just forget about it for today."

A lacerated, guttural whisper staggered past his sun-dried lips, "I'm sorry I'm such a tragedy."

"You're not a tragedy. You're the other half of my soul." He felt the ground disappear then heard sand-crunching footsteps, "Rest, my love, I've got you."


End file.
